


No hell below us, above us only sky

by cheshire_carroll



Category: Bleach, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, Background romantic pairings, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Gen relationships are the focus, Ichigo is Tsuna's cousin, M/M, Nana and Masaki are sisters, Nana is a Quincy, Quincy Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Tsunayoshi is Not Dame, Tsuna is friends with the Eleventh, self indulgent, they are fourteen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshire_carroll/pseuds/cheshire_carroll
Summary: Most nights, Tsuna dreamed of Hell. It didn't matter that it had been years ago, or that Nana had taken him away from Karakura Town the very next day. The memories of blood, fire, bones, cages, molten lava, and thick, stinking smoke that burned his lungs with every breath hadn't faded even slightly.Reborn is expecting an idiot to train; an Iemitsu 2.0. Tsuna is nothing like he’s prepared for, and when the boy promises to burn Vongola to the ground if anyone tries to make him inherit, well, Reborn believes him. And that— that is a Problem.
Relationships: Basil & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Ishida Uryuu, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Kon (Bleach), Sawada Tsunayoshi & Kurosaki Ichigo, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Kurosaki Karin, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Kurosaki Yuzu, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Kusajishi Yachiru, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Reborn, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians
Comments: 267
Kudos: 2150
Collections: Amazing and Bizarre Crossovers, Pacing's bests





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is largely self-indulgent because I am so goddamn sick of Tsuna saying "I don't want to be Decimo!" and then ending up being bullied into being Decimo regardless. So, I'm making a strong Tsuna who gets to say no and mean it.
> 
> *title from John Lennon's "Imagine"

**ONE:**

“I’m sorry Tsuna,” Ichigo said roughly, his ever-present scowl doing little to hide his upset. “This is my fault.”

“No, no, it’s all my fault!” Yuzu cried out, tears streaking down her cheeks as she clung to her favourite cousin with the same amount of desperation that he was clinging to her.

Tsuna wanted to cry too, but he didn’t want to make his cousins feel even worse– even Karin’s eyes were pink and puffy and she was scowling hard at the ground.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” he told Yuzu, just barely managing to keep his voice from trembling.

“Especially not yours,” Ichigo told Yuzu sternly, and Tsuna nodded fervently in agreement while Karin gently elbowed her sister in reprimand, because it was true. Yuzu had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Tsuna had been the one to choose not to let her get dragged to Hell alone. It had all turned out to be a plan meant to get Ichigo to destroy the Gates of Hell and that had been the last straw for Tsuna’s mother. Despite the fact they’d been living in Kurakara since Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu’s mama, Tsuna’s auntie and Nana’s sister, had died, Nana had declared that she and Tsuna were moving back to Namimori.

Tsuna and Yuzu had been devastated, but Nana couldn’t cope with it anymore. She refused to let Tsuna’s life be put in danger because of Shinigami and Quincy business any longer and if that meant leaving their home of nearly a decade and their family behind, then so be it. Nana had offered to take Yuzu and Karin with them, but Isshin, who was as useless as Iemitsu, had refused.

And now... now Tsuna was leaving his brother and sisters, for that’s what his cousins had been to him growing up, and going to a strange town he barely remembered, where he had no friends or family who loved him– there’d be no more going to the dojo with Ichigo, or playing soccer with Karin, or attending cooking classes with Yuzu. There’d be no more archery with cousin Uryuu or kendo with Uncle Kisuke or playing tag with Yachiru, when she came to the Human World to visit.

...actually, maybe there’d still be tag. It’d just be him and Yachiru, though, because Yuzu wouldn’t be there. And that _hurt_.

“It’s time to go, Tsuna,” Nana said softly, and with tears in his eyes, Tsuna hugged Yuzu one last time, then they just... _left_.

::

Several decades before, Sawada Nana was born Kurosaki Aohime, younger sister to Kurosaki Masaki, an Echt Quincy “princess” of true-breeding from a long line of pure-blooded Quincy. Aohime had no interest in her ‘prestigious’ bloodline, however, and wished only that she could be normal and live a normal life. Her lack of interest turned to true dislike after the deaths of her parents while fighting against hollows, and when she and Masaki were taken in by the Ishida Quincy family, she had no interest in staying and becoming a broodmare for more Quincy children.

She was seventeen-years-old when she ran away, never looking back. Only Masaki knew how to contact her, and Masaki, just as indignant about being a broodmare but not opposed to being a Quincy in general, wasn’t about to tell anybody else.

Aohime changed her name to Sato Nana, shedding the burden of the Kurosaki name and picking one of the more common surnames in Japan. Sato Nana was ordinary, sweet and unobtrusive. She worked in various cafes and restaurants in major cities across Japan, saving her money and living out of a suitcase as she stayed mostly in youth hostels.

She was nineteen when she met Sawada Iemitsu, and it was love at first sight... for him. Nana was mostly bewildered about what the older, handsome, expensively dressed man could possibly see in her. She was nice to look at, but nothing special to those unaware of her heritage, and she wasn’t outgoing, witty, amusing or particularly intelligent. She was just Nana, currently working as a waitress, which was certainly not a high paying or interesting job.

But Iemitsu seemed oddly besotted, and despite her initial suspicions that he was from a Quincy family looking for a pureblood bride, she gradually softened on him, finding herself drawn to the man in a way she couldn’t quite articulate. Eventually, she actually fell in love with him, even taking the persistent man to Masaki’s wedding in Karakura (and it wasn’t to Ryuuken, astonishingly enough, which was why she’d actually agreed to attend) and, a year later, she married him and moved with him to a town called Namimori.

Their marriage wasn't exactly a traditional one; Iemitsu was only home for a handful of days each month, his job requiring him to work mostly overseas. Despite what her neighbours whispered, Nana honestly didn't mind his absence at all– she'd grown used to being alone, and found it peaceful. And besides, spending too much time with Iemitsu would increase the risk that he might uncover the secrets she intended on taking to her grave, or she would accidentally uncover one of his secrets– because she wasn’t as smart as her sister, but she wasn’t an idiot either, and Iemitsu’s stories didn’t always add up... but hers didn’t either, and she did believe that his love for her was real

Nana was happy in her normal, mundane life, even though she was lonely sometimes. And then Masaki gave birth to a son, Kurosaki Ichigo, and Nana’s answer was there.

Convincing Iemitsu had been harder then she'd expected, which was the final proof she needed that he wasn’t a disguised Quincy either, as a Quincy would leap at the chance to continue the bloodline, but four and a half years later she finally gave birth to her own son, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Nana immediately fell in love her little Tsu-kun, treasuring him more then anything else in all the worlds. He was a tiny little thing with fluffy brown hair, big doe eyes and the sweetest little smile. He was around the same age as his cousins, Masaki’s twin girls Karin and Yuzu, and Nana fervently hoped the twins, Tsuna and Ichigo all never awoke their Quincy powers, and that they could stay safe in obliviousness forever.

As Tsuna grew, Nana doted on her young son. Iemitsu wasn’t around as much as she’d have hoped, for Tsuna’s sake, but she treasured the time she did have with her family.

And then when Tsuna was four, something strange happened to her little boy after her husband and his Italian boss came to visit. Her son seemed slower and clumsier and he complained of being cold all the time. But before she could do anything about it, the past she thought she’d left behind reared its ugly head. Just a few weeks after Tsuna’s fifth birthday the Sealed King absorbed the power of every “impure” Quincy– and apparently, by his standards, marrying outside the bloodline countered as sullying herself, making her impure and undeserving of the powers he’d granted her family line.

She survived the purge purely (and unbeknownst to her) due to the flame-bond she had with her husband, but it damaged her, deeply and irreversibly. Poor Nana was never quite the same after being found unconscious in her garden by her hysterical son, who had been spared, much like his cousins, by the grace of the fact that his Quincy powers were dormant.

None of Namimori's doctors or the "specialists" Iemitsu brought in were quite sure what happened to Nana, only that when she woke from her coma with a low moan of a foreign word– _Auswählen_ – the poor woman just wasn't the same as who she had been before. She was still sweet, kind, and loving, but she was also out-of-sorts, easily distracted and absentminded. She had to quit her job at the local cafe as she kept forgetting things, and her little Tsu-kun had had to step up around the house.

Nana, after a few weeks, was finally cognisant enough to recognise that things weren’t likely to get any better without any aid from the world she avoided like the plague, and in a more lucid moment she tried to get into contact with Masaki. That was when she first learned of her sister’s death, and it felt like her heart had shattered. One week later, she’d packed her and her son’s suitcases and travelled to Karakura to help Isshin in the aftermath of his wife’s and the children’s mother’s death.

It was intended as a temporary move, only for a couples of weeks at most, but when her darling Tsuna seemed so much happier there, no longer so slow and clumsy and cold when surrounded by his cousins, the weeks turned to months, then to years, and as those years passed on by, they were _happy_ there. Her precious Tsuna was so, so _happy_ there.

And then, naturally, everything went wrong.

::

Tsuna’s happy life in Karakura lasted until he was eleven. And then everything started to shatter around him

It started with a hollow that almost killed Karin when he and the twins were eleven, and a war against a Shinigami who wanted to be god.

Unbelievably, it only got worse from there.

Tsuna was twelve and a half when the second war, the Quincy Blood War, started– though perhaps ‘start’ wasn’t the right word to use, when technically it was a war nearly a thousand years old. It was during the Blood War that his mama revealed the truth about her and Masaki’s heritage, despite Isshin’s protests and complaints. She and Ryuuken taught Tsuna, Yuzu and Karin how to use their Quincy powers the best they could, so that they wouldn’t be defenceless, but in the end it hadn’t been enough to keep him safe.

In a horrifying twist, it wasn’t even the Quincy that Ichigo was fighting against that took Tsuna, it was one of the Shinigami that were meant to be his allies. Tsuna could barely even think about waking up in a laboratory with a clown-faced Shinigami leaning over him, scalpel in hand and the awful events that followed without regressing into a panic attack. The agony of being carved open, of blood and tissue samples taken and even his Quincy abilities being forcibly manifested to be tested was indescribable. It wasn’t until Kurotsuchi attempted to take a sample of ‘reproductive material’ that something inside Tsuna _snapped_ and strange orange flames exploded out of him, making him _warm_ for the first time since he’d been abducted.

The flames destroyed the restraints, destroyed the room, _destroyed Clown Face_ , and Tsuna staggered out of the ruined room, naked and bleeding sluggishly from the incisions on his torso with the orange flame still burning on his forehead and a sense of alien calmness guiding his movements as he walked without hesitation through the underground maze of passages, directly to the exit.

He found himself emerging out of the hidden laboratory in a mostly abandoned-looking stretch of buildings, and it took hours of walking for him to find another “living” being. The girl he found, or possibly who had found him, was small, appearing to be about his age despite her Shinigami uniform and sealed Zanpakutou. She had bright pink hair and greeted him by poking the orange flame still burning on his forehead. Tsuna felt, for one long moment, a weird sense of _incomplete_ , and then the orange flame finally spluttered and went out. Barely a second later, Tsuna hit ground, unconscious.

He wouldn’t wake for nearly three days, during which time the pink-haired girl had cheerfully kept him stashed in the barracks of her Division. When he woke up, he learned that her name was Kusajishi Yachiru “call me Yachiru-chan!” and she was actually the lieutenant of the Eleventh Division, who Ichigo had once described as “a bunch of bloodthirsty maniacs”.

He wasn’t wrong.

(They were also surprisingly easy to befriend, though. Most of them he just had to put up a semi-decent fight for them to clap him on the back and offer him something alcoholic, which seemed to be their version of bonding. With Yumichika, all he had to do was quote Shakespeare when Ikkaku called him a midget– indignantly exclaiming “Though he be but little he is fierce!” was possibly not his proudest moment, but Ichigo had read _a lot_ of Shakespeare to him and the twins as bedtime stories over the years and at that point he had definitely had a concussion)

Nana, once she’d noticed he was gone, almost three weeks after he’d actually disappeared (he didn’t blame her for not being able to focus, he knew she loved him and he knew she tried her hardest to be a good mother even when she spent more then half her life in what she referred to in her more lucid moments as a ‘housewife fog’, as she tended to get hyper-focused on household chores when her mind was lost and dazed), wanted to return to Namimori immediately. It was only Ichi-niisan’s defeat of Yhwach that restored her confidence enough to have her filing those plans away.

Unfortunately, however, she didn’t file them away for good. And after Hell... well, him getting kidnapped with Yuzu and taken to Hell was the last straw on his mother’s back. Despite his desperate pleading, Nana put her foot down. She and Tsuna were returning to Namimori and that was final.

::


	2. Chapter 2

****TWO:** **

Standing in a bedroom he barely remembered, Tsuna felt lost. Tears welled up in his eyes as he took in the clean lines and straight edges, the elegant but cold dark wooden furniture, the store-bought duvet; it was nothing at all like the bedroom he’d shared with Ichigo. Their bedroom had been _homey_ ; Ichigo’s bookshelf had overflowed with old classics, both in Japanese and English, their furniture was a warm honey-gold, and Tsuna and Yuzu had learned quilting one summer so the whole family had beds bedecked with home-made quilts.

Tsuna sniffed, wiping at his eyes as he sat the last cardboard box down in the bedroom. He wanted nothing more then to turn around and go back to Karakura Town, to go back to Yuzu and Karin and Ichigo, but in one of her lucid moments Nana had put her foot down and Tsuna hadn’t been able to argue with her, he hadn’t had the heart to. Not when it was something she wanted when she’d had so much stolen from her.

Nana had been declared legally fit to live on her own and to have custody of him– though Tsuna suspected that strings must have been pulled somewhere for that to have happened, or that his mother had been having a particularly good few days when the social worker assessed her– but his mother depending on the day, she could spend hours or even days at a time simply staring at nothing, or wandering aimlessly around the house. Other times, she would get lost in what she called a ‘housewife haze’, where she completed household tasks to the point of obsession– and often to excess, such as cooking a meal for a dozen when they only needed to feed six.

It was hard for them all, but it was hardest for Nana, who had chosen to strike out on her own at a young age, rather than to be stripped of her independence and remain at home, keeping house and be used as a broodmare because of her status as an Echt Quincy.

Having that independence stolen from her broke her heart, and the nights when Tsuna heard her stifling her sobs in her pillow were by far the worst of all. He would give anything, do anything, to help her or make her feel better– it was why he hadn’t fought this move, and why his cousins hadn’t fought it either. They all understood; this was for Nana, who had had so much taken from her already. If peace of mind was something that they could give her, then they would. Even if it hurt them.

To love someone was to make sacrifices for them. That was something all Kurosakis understood– and Tsuna knew that the moment he turned eighteen, he was casting off his useless father’s name and claiming his mother’s true maiden name for his own, in order to legally be known as Kurosaki Tsuna, not just socially by his friends and family.

Unpacking his belongings in the room that was his but at the same time hadn’t been his for years took Tsuna hours. He hadn’t realised he’d accumulated quite so much stuff over the years until it was time to box it all up. It had been painful to pack his life into boxes. It was just as painful to unbox it.

He was on the second last box, the one filled with personal items such as photos and small mementoes collected over the years, when he came across something he wasn’t expecting– something he hadn’t packed at all.

“Kon?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

“Surprise!” said the stuffed lion.

“Kon!” Tsuna exclaimed, scooping the lion out of the box and hugging him tightly.

“Easy on the stuffing,” Kon grumbled, but he still put up with the enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” Tsuna asked, eventually pulling back from the hug and beaming at the stuffed lion he was cradling in his arms.

“We figured you might be lonely,” Kon told him, “not me of course,” he quickly added.

“Of course not,” Tsuna agreed with the stuffed lion, still beaming.

“So someone, can’t quite remember who, suggested that I come along with you. To keep you company,” Kon explained. “We can be like that weird American comic you like– you know, one of the ones Ichigo got you to keep up your English skills.”

“Oh! Calvin and Hobbes*!” Tsuna said excitedly. It was an American comic about a boy, Calvin, and a stuffed tiger called Hobbes, who to Calvin was a living anthropomorphic tiger, while all the other characters saw him as an inanimate stuffed toy.

“Yeah,” Kon nodded, “you get to look insane, and I get to look handsome. Sounds good to me.”

Tsuna just laughed and pulled Kon into another hug. “Thanks.” He whispered, pretending that there weren’t tears dripping down onto Kon’s fur.

“Any time, kid,” Kon said fondly, patting Tsuna’s back with a fuzzy paw.

It was easier, somehow, to face the prospect of an unknown future in an unknown place with Kon at his side. He’d always got along well with Kon. While the Mod-Soul had some perverted habits that had gotten him several stern talking-to's that hadn’t worked very well, followed by one tearful one from Yuzu and Tsuna that had worked _extremely_ well, at his heart Kon wanted the same thing that Tsuna did– a peaceful existence for himself and those he loved. They understood each other and with that understanding came a valued companionship.

Nana didn’t even blink at Kon’s surprise presence at the dinner table, despite the fact he was supposed to be at Karakura. Tsuna wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t noticed him or she was just too accustomed to unexpected guests, even if those guests were stuffed toys that spoke. After all, she’d been known to have tea and biscuits with Yumichika where they’d share make-up tips and the best tricks for getting blood stains out of fabric. This all happening, of course, while Ikkaku chased Ichigo around the house, demanding a fight, and out in the backyard Yachiru did her best to pummel Tsuna with a soccer ball while Karin yelled about her breaking rules of the game and Yuzu and Kon cheered from where they were holding up the skipping rope that was serving as the “goal”.

...okay, maybe Tsuna was a bit too accustomed to the strangeness too.

“So, Tsu-kun,” Nana said brightly, as the silence stretched too long, making the glaring absence of where three other voices should be more obvious. “Are you looking forward to starting school?”

“Um,” he said, “I’m not sure?”

He’d never done particularly well at school, but he’d never done badly either. He was mostly an average student, but he was fine with that and Ichigo had been a good tutor for the subjects he struggled in, like Maths. He had always done well in English, though– having a brother like Ichigo made that unavoidable. He grew up with Shakespeare’s sonnets as his bedtime stories; it was hard to _not_ pick up a decent fluency!

Nana’s smile started to strain at the edges, and Tsuna felt awful that she was trying so hard and he was making it difficult, even if it was unintentional. “New schools can be quite intimidating,” his mother said. “My parents moved us around quite a bit when Masaki and I were younger. In hindsight, I realise that they must have been following Yhawach’s orders, helping him prepare for his war. Perhaps they involved in recruitment efforts. All I really know is that they never seemed to stay in one place longer than a year, and then Masaki and I would be uprooted all over again.”

“Oh,” Tsuna said, his eyes widening. His mother didn’t talk much about her childhood much, only mentioning that it was strict and traditional. And all she’d said about her parents, his grandparents, was that she didn’t know if they were still alive, but if they were then they could meet Tsuna over her cold, dead body. She’d been holding a skillet at the time and had been looking particularly fierce.

“I always found it easier to face a new school knowing I had my sister with me at my side,” Nana said quietly, an old grief evident in the lines of her face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that reassurance, Tsuna.”

“He’s got me, Mama,” Kon said, jumping up on the table and puffing out his chest dramatically, and some of the sadness left Nana’s face as she smiled warmly down at the stuffed lion and his antics.

“Yes, he does– and I’m glad he has you, Kon-kun,” she said, and Kon preened as she stroked his head gently.

Tsuna mouthed ‘thank you’ to the stuffed lion when his mother wasn’t looking, to which Kon replied with an approximation of what Tsuna guessed was a thumbs up without any thumbs.

In bed that night, Tsuna lay awake listening to the sounds of Kon’s breathing, tiny little puffs of breath. If he hadn’t seen what Kon could do in a fight when he was protecting something he loved, he’d never have believed such a tiny, cute stuffed lion was actually a Mod-Soul capable of such destructive force. “' _Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion_.**’” He murmured to himself in English, and he heard Kon scoff quietly from the little hammock he’d made to sleep in out of two piles of books, a sheet and a blanket.

“You and Ichigo are such Shakespeare nerds,” he grumbled, and Tsuna smiled.

“Thanks Kon.”

“It wasn’t a compliment!”

Tsuna just laughed and rolled over, falling asleep with a smile on his face.

_—smoke; thick, heavy, choking, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he’s so afraid, he’s going to die here, he’s holding Yuzu and there are chains in his arms and there’s blood, oh gods oh gods he’s bleeding, someone help please help please help—_

“Tsuna!”

Tsuna jerked awake, panting and heaving, drenched in sweat and standing outside in someone’s backyard in just the boxer shorts and t-shirt he’d gone to bed in. “Wh-what? Where am I?” he coughed, his voice hoarse like he’d been screaming. Kon was standing at his feet, looking uncommonly serious.

“In the backyard of your new house,” he said. “Well, your old house. You were pretty young when you moved to Karakura, so it’s not a surprise you don’t remember it. But do you remember walking out here?”

“No,” Tsuna said, suddenly gripped with terrible fear as the memories of his mum walking limply like a puppet, eyes glazed over were suddenly at the forefront of his mind. “Is there something wrong with me?” he asked, looking down at Kon desperately.

“Calm down, kid,” Kon scolded, “I’m sure you’ve heard of sleep-walking before.”

“Sleep-walking? Really?” Tsuna asked, beginning to shiver. His sweat-soaked t-shirt cooled in the breeze and now it felt like ice against his skin.

“Well you sure as shit weren’t awake when you started stumbling down the stairs, giving me a heart attack,” Kon said, before whacking a fuzzy paw against Tsuna’s shin. “Now hurry it up and get inside before you catch a cold or something.”

“Yes mother,” Tsuna said, ignoring Kon’s indignant squawking as he hurried inside and headed for the bathroom. Stripping off the soiled clothes, he stepped into the shower and turned the water on, careful to keep the water at a low to medium heat only and leaving the shower door open and the bathroom fan on. Too much heat and steam these days was liable to trigger a panic attack, especially after a nightmare like the one he’d had last night.

He wondered why he hadn’t had any episodes of sleepwalking before this. Maybe it was his subconscious searching for a safe environment, instinctively knowing that he didn’t see this place as home? Whatever it was, it was a problem. One he was going to have to fix.

After his shower, Tsuna dressed in one of his newly unpacked t-shirts, an orange hoodie and jeans before heading down for breakfast. He had the weekend before he was due to start school and he planned to spend the day exploring the town with Kon.

The stuffed lion was already at the table, flirting with a blushing Nana who kept giggling and fanning her face as the stuffed lion leaned in closer to her. Tsuna rolled his eyes but let it go. His mother deserved the compliments and Kon knew better than to say anything gross or perverted to her. Yuzu would cry. So would Tsuna. And Kon was _weak_ to their tears.

After breakfast, Nana sent them off with a cheery wave and a reminder to be back by dinner. She had a dreamy look about her that Tsuna recognised as a warning sign that she probably wasn’t going to be ‘all there’ by the time they got back and he made a note to himself to pick up some dinner just in case. He also made sure to shut and lock the front door as he left– she’d be able to unlock it if she needed to, so long as she still had her presence of mind. If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t go wandering.

With Kon on his shoulder, Tsuna set off, making note of the street signs as he went. He trusted his phone’s GPS, but in case the battery ran out or some kind of unforeseen disaster took place and destroyed his phone, he wanted to be able to find his way back to the house. _His_ house. Because, depressing as it was, it was his house now.

Namimori, as it turned out, didn’t have much going for it. Not that Karakura really did either, but Karakura had Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu, and Namimori didn’t, so Tsuna was biased. After a morning spent wandering around with a map of the town he’d found in an odd little antiques store, Tsuna was left feeling thoroughly depressed about the move.

“C’mon kid, cheer up,” Kon said encouragingly, “let’s go get ice-cream and find a park or something.”

“Ice-cream isn’t a proper lunch,” Tsuna pointed out and Kon shrugged.

“So?”

Tsuna paused to think. “…we could play Calvinball*** at the park?” he suggested.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s Calvinball?” Kon asked, looking unfairly hesitant in Tsuna’s opinion.

“You were the one who brought up the Calvin and Hobbes theme,” Tsuna pointed out.

“And you’re the one who’s running with it,” Kon shot back, before sighing. “Okay, so how do we play it?”

“Well, there's a minimum of two players,” Tsuna started, “and the players have to wear masks.”

“Okay,” Kon nodded, “I’m following so far. What’s next?”

“No, that’s it.” Tsuna said.

“…that’s it?” Kon repeated in disbelief. “What the fuck, Tsuna?”

“Kon, I’m twelve,” Tsuna sighed. “Please at least _try_ not to swear around me.”

“You’ve fought in a war, been tortured by a mad scientist and gone to Hell, you can swear if you fucking want to, Tsuna,” Kon replied dismissively.

“And I don’t want to,” Tsuna told him and then pouted at Kon with big watery eyes until Kon was forced to look away.

“Fine,” he said huffily. “I’ll _try_ , okay?”

Tsuna sent a mental high-five to Yuzu and beamed brightly at Kon. “Thanks. Anyway, back to Calvinball. You pretty much make it up as you go along. That’s what makes it fun.” Well, that was what had made it fun for Calvin and Hobbes in the comic strip Ichigo had bought him anyway.

“But how do you win?” Kon asked, which was unsurprising because Kon liked to win. Tsuna shrugged.

“I’ve got no idea. But we’ll probably figure it out.”

“You’re so lucky I want to cheer you up.” Kon sighed. “Fine. Let’s go find a park and play your stupid game.”

Tsuna peered at their map. “I think there’s a baseball park near here we could go to,” he said, and Kon, peering over his shoulder, nodded.

“Sounds good,” he said, and Tsuna shivered. “What’s wrong?” the stuffed lion asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I just got this really weird feeling all of a sudden. Like there’s going to be rain at the park?”

Kon stared up at the sky. The clear blue sky with not a cloud in sight.

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “Rain. That’s definitely going to happen.”

Tsuna shrugged. “I told you it was a weird feeling.”

And it was weirdly persistent too.

“Let’s just get ice-cream,” Kon sighed. “And then we can go to the baseball park and play your weird game.”

“Sure,” Tsuna said. “But we need to stop somewhere and get some black stockings first.”

“…I’m not even going to ask.”

****

******* ** ****Calvin and Hobbes is an American comic strip created by cartoonist Bill Watterson about Calvin and his stuffed tiger Hobbes, who to Calvin is a living anthropomorphic tiger, while all the other characters see him as an inanimate stuffed toy.** **

******A Midsummer's Night Dream, Act III, Scene 1 - basically, it's saying Kon is not a real lion; Tsuna is intending it to mean that Kon is so much more than the stuffed toy he appears to be** **

*******Calvinball is a game Calvin and Hobbes created that has no rules; players make it up as they go along. I’ve included a link if anyone’s interested in the key features of various games of Calvinball:** **

****_https://calvinandhobbes.fandom.com/wiki/Calvinball_ ** **


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE:**

Tsuna was still thinking about rain when they arrived at the baseball park. Because the sky was still clear and blue and sunny, though, he tried to put it out of his mind. 

The park was mostly empty despite it being a Saturday other then a handful of baseball players who seemed to be practicing over at the baseball diamond. They were far enough away that Tsuna doubted they'd see Kon running around, only him. Which would look strange, no doubt, but he didn't really care.

"So, any further tips about this Calvinball?" Kon asked. He was holding the stocking with a look of disdain on his face. Tsuna had cut the eyeholes out with a pair of scissors he'd bought at the same supermarket store as he'd bought the stockings. The lady at the check-out had given him a very strange look.

"Not really," Tsuna said, as he tied his own mask around his eyes and blinked out of the badly cut eye-holes. It had been trickier then the comics had made it look. "Stuff like wickets and flags and zones can be involved. And you can't use the same rule twice."

"Hm," Kon said, as Tsuna knelt to tie Kon's mask on. "I'm assuming we need a ball? It is in the name."

Tsuna opened his mouth to answer when they were interrupted by a baseball hitting the ground between them. They both stared. "What the fu– uugh," Kon trailed off grimacing, remembering Tsuna's earlier no swearing request. Tsuna just blinked in surprise.

"It feels like the universe is giving us a hint," he said.

"Haha, sorry about that!" A cheerful voice said, and Tsuna looked up to see a smiling boy looking down at him. Something about him seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "We didn't mean to hit it in this direction," the boy explained. "But we're just finishing up anyway, so you don't have to worry about getting hit."

"Oh, thanks." Tsuna said, and the boy nodded.

"Can I ask what the mask is for?" He said, and Tsuna felt his cheeks warm.

"Um," he said, "We're about to play a game."

"Really?" The boy said, his eyes sharpening, like a shark scenting blood. "What sort of game?"

 _Oh_ , Tsuna thought. He knew where he recognised the boy from now– at least half of the Eleventh had eyes like that. Yumichika was one of them, and out of all the psychos at the Eleventh Tsuna always thought he was the most dangerous because he hid it the best. There was something endlessly hungry in people like his friend, in people like this boy. Endlessly, desperately _hungry_ , because inside they were just _empty_ and always searching for something _more more more_ to _fill them up_ , for them to _consume_.

Yumichika usually hid it behind pretty words and pretty clothes and pretty smiles, effortlessly distracting with bright chatter and laughter and flamboyance. This boy didn't quite have it right yet; his eyes were still too flat, his smile not quite right, but Tsuna thought he'd have his mask ready by middle school.

But for now, it was almost nostalgic looking at him. Which was probably why Tsuna answered honestly. "We're playing Calvinball."

"We?" The boy asked.

Tsuna just pointed at Kon. He was half-expecting Kon to say something, but the stuffed lion stayed quiet and still. Probably the smarter choice.

"Huh," the boy said thoughtfully, not commenting on the fact that Tsuna apparently still played with stuffed animals. "I've never heard of Calvinball before. Is it fun?"

"I've got no idea," Tsuna admitted. "I've never played it before." The boy grinned.

"Cool," He said. "Room for one more?"

Tsuna shrugged. "Sure," He said. "Why not?"

The answer to 'why not?' turned out to be because the newly-introduced Yamamoto Takeshi and Yachiru would have gotten along very well, Tsuna thought grouchily as he tripped forwards, courtesy of the fact his shoe-laces were tied together, and managed to grab the baseball. "I have the Legendary Shintai* of the Baseball Kami!" He shouted quickly, "New rule– you now have to roll ten times in a row or you get penalised and have to hop on one leg and squawk like a chicken!"

Takeshi cackled with laughter as he practically fell to the ground, rolling in Tsuna's direction. Tsuna hastily scrambled to his feet. "New rule!" Takeshi called out. "You can't hold the Legendary Shintai of the Baseball Kami in your hand for more then five seconds without throwing it at least two meters in the air or you get penalised and have to walk on all fours on your back!"

Cursing, Tsuna chucked the baseball up in the air, already knowing what was coming. Sure enough, Takeshi rolled into the back of his legs, knocking him forwards and causing him to trip– again, thanks to his shoe-laces– and Takeshi caught the baseball between rolls in a display of athleticism that Tsuna lacked. Tsuna wasn't even sure why they were both trying to grab the Legendary Shintai of the Baseball Kami– it wasn't as if holding it meant winning. It was probably the really important sounding name that Takeshi had given it.

Even if he was obsessed with baseball and bloodthirsty enough to be one of the Eleventh, though he did at least try to hide it, Takeshi was actually pretty fun, Tsuna had to admit. He'd been pretty open-minded about the silly game and even though it meant Kon needed to sit out and play-act the stuffed animal, well, Takeshi's enthusiasm for Calvinball was about three times Kon's enthusiasm anyway. Tsuna was pretty sure Kon would just be happy Tsuna was making a friend.

"New rule!" He called out, noticing that Takeshi's last roll had taken him within the boundary of the baseball diamond. "The diamond is now the Pugnacious Push-Up Zone! Anyone in it has to do twenty push-ups before they can leave it!"

"Can you even do twenty push-ups, Tsuna?" Takeshi teased. Tsuna huffed indignantly and immediately hopped over to the Pugnacious Push-Up Zone. Honestly, he was an archer! Not to mention training with Ichigo at the dojo and learning kendo with Uncle Kisuke. Imagine him not being able to do a measly twenty push-ups!

"New rule," he declared, "first to finish _fifty_ push-ups has to treat the winner to lunch." Tsuna still stood by his opinion that ice-cream was _not_ a proper meal.

Takeshi's eyes were still _hungry_ , but his smile was _real_. "You're on," he said, tossing the Legendary Shintai of the Baseball Kami out of the way and moving into the push-up position, Tsuna doing the same. "Ready, set, go!" Takeshi counted down, and Tsuna immediately got started. Uryuu had made him do a hundred push-ups in a row more then once, so he wasn't worried about the number, but he wasn't sure how fast Takeshi was.

He could feel the burn in his arms and the sweat dripping down his back and neck. His breath scraped through his throat as he pushed up and down and up and down, over and over at a relentless pace that he knew his instructors, all of them harsh task-masters, would be proud of, speaking each number as he did so.

When he finally rasped out fifty, he collapsed and rolled onto his back. Takeshi cursed, finishing his final six before likewise collapsing, panting hard. "Wow," he wheezed, "I haven't had a workout like that in ages!"

"I don't usually do push-ups at a sprint like that either," Tsuna laughed. "Urgh, I'm going to be so sore for the next few days. That's exactly what I want for my first day of school."

"Yeah?" Takeshi asked, interested. "Which school do you go to?"

"I've just moved to the area," Tsuna explained. "Well, moved back. We lived here until I was about five. Anyway, I'm enrolled in Namimori Elementary for my final year before middle school."

"No way!" Laughed Takeshi. "Me too! Hopefully we're in the same class."

"I'd like that," Tsuna said shyly. "I don't really know anyone here."

"You seem pretty great, I'm sure you'll make lots of friends," Takeshi said confidently.

Eventually, they stood up, Tsuna finally untying his shoelaces so he could walk properly and they made their way back to where they'd left Kon and Takeshi's baseball gear, only for Takeshi to stop and gape. "No freaking way!" He exclaimed. Tsuna wanted to groan. Kon was sitting there, looking very innocent, with the Legendary Shintai of the Baseball Kami sitting on his lap. "The ball must have landed on it when I chucked it over," Takeshi said with a laugh. "Do you reckon that means the lion wins?"

Kon looked very smug. Tsuna wanted to strangle him. "I guess it does." He sighed, picking up the baseball and handing it to Takeshi before picking up Kon and, feeling slightly vengeful, stuffing the lion into the large pocket of his hoody so he was out of sight.

"So, guess I owe you lunch," Takeshi said cheerfully, and Tsuna flushed.

"You don't actually have to do that," he said. Takeshi just grinned.

"Yeah," He said, "But I want to. Besides, my dad owns a sushi shop, so I get free sushi. You like sushi, right?"

"I do," Tsuna assured him.

TakeSushi wasn't a large store. Not far from the baseball park, it had only three booths inside and one chef– Takeshi's father, Tsuna assumed– who was working behind the counter with a knife while a young woman with her hair twisted back in a bun was putting together platters and a third, a teenager with blue streaks in her spiky bleached hair, was manning the till and acting as the server.

"Hey dad!" Takeshi called as they walked into the store.

"Takeshi," his father greeted his son warmly, stepping out from behind the counter. He paused seeing Tsuna, an expression flitting over his face too quickly for Tsuna to read– _surprise? Shock?_ – before settling on an equally warm smile. "And who is this?"

"Ah," Takeshi said with a slightly awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head, "this is Tsuna, Dad. We met at the park. He's just moved to the area. We had a push-up competition, first to finish fifty had to get the other lunch. Turns out Tsuna's stronger then he looks."

"I'm an archer," Tsuna explained, blushing, when Takeshi's dad turned a surprised look over at him. The man's face relaxed into a smile.

"Ah, that explains it," Takeshi's dad chuckled. "I'm Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, it's a pleasure to meet you." Tsuna was slightly confused, because the way the man looked, it wasn't like he was just being polite– it looked like he really meant it. Like it really was a pleasure to meet Tsuna. It was sort of... strange. Not neccesarily unpleasant, but strange.

"I'm Kurosaki Tsunayoshi," he said politely with a bow– it was a habit by now, to introduce himself by his mother's maiden name on everything but official forms. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. Please call me Tsuna."

"Any friend of Takeshi's is welcome to call me Tsuyoshi," Tsuyoshi said warmly, which again, wasn't exactly normal, but who was Tsuna to argue with the man?

Tsuyoshi showed them to a booth and promised to have sushi brought out to them. Tsuna smiled at Takeshi, who was looking out after his dad with a slightly puzzled look on his face, like he didn't think this was normal behaviour from his dad either. "So, your dad seems really nice," Tsuna said hesitantly, and Takeshi turned back to him.

"He is," the other boy said, and there was genuine warmth in his eyes that spoke of a real love between the pair.

The pair of them chatted about their game of Calvinball– Takeshi had decided he wanted to play again– and then about Namimori Elementary, which Tsuna would be starting on Monday. Takeshi assured him the teachers were mostly okay and that the baseball team coach was awesome. Tsuna had to gently break the news to Takeshi that he wasn't interested in joining the baseball team, but he would be looking into the kendo team. Takeshi had looked disappointed but said that he might look at his schedule to see if there was room for a second extracurricular. Tsuna had blushed at the thought that Takeshi would want to spend time with him that much.

When Tsuna checked the time he realised nearly three hours had passed since they'd arrived at TakeSushi and he let out a surprised squeak, causing Takeshi to laugh at him. Fumbling in his pocket for his wallet, he knocked a distinctly grumpy looking Kon from his pocket as he hurried over to the counter to order some sushi to take home for dinner. Tsuyoshi, however, insisted that it be on the house, much to Tsuna's distress.

Carrying the box with him, he bid Takeshi a farewell and promised to meet the other boy outside the front gates of the school twenty minutes before classes started on Monday before heading off, back towards his house, Kon tucked under one arm.

"I think that went well," he said brightly, once he was out of earshot of the Yamamotos.

"For you!" Huffed Kon. "...but yeah," the stuffed lion admitted, "I'm glad you made a friend, kid. Maybe things won't be so bad here, huh?"

"Maybe they won't," Tsuna agreed, and he practically felt like he was walking on air as he made his way back to the house. _His_ house.

::

Tsuyoshi knew his son was different. Even before Takeshi had witnessed his mother's bloody death at the hands of the assassins who had hunted Tsuyoshi down, Takeshi hadn't been like the other children. In the mafia, they would call him a 'natural born hitman' but Tsuyoshi knew that was just a different way of saying psychopath.

His Takeshi wasn't a full-blown psychopath, but he was born just that little bit off ( _broken_ ). Tsuyoshi and his beloved Ami had loved him unconditionally regardless, and they'd taken the time to teach him the rules of society, giving particular attention to those about ethics and morality. Ami used to love reading him storybooks and fables filled with bright, colourful pages. She would hold his tiny hands and trace the different expressions, explaining what they meant and what the emotion felt like.

While Takeshi had been a quiet, withdrawn child, even before Ami's murder, as he grew older, he'd grown better at faking emotion, better at faking good humour and cheer and he'd even picked up baseball, discovering a talent for the sport and becoming obsessed with perfecting his skill at the sport.

As Takeshi grew older and retreated further and further behind his mask, always hiding behind that fake smile, burying the truth of who he was and what he needed behind his baseball obsession, Tsuyoshi had grown more and more concerned for his son. Takeshi was going to burn out, he knew, with a slowly growing sense of dread, and when he did snap he didn't know if his son was going to kill himself or go on a spree and kill half his classmates first.

As junior high school approached, Tsuyoshi was beginning to put serious thought into withdrawing Takeshi from school. The only thing stopping him was the baseball– Takeshi was obsessed with the sport and he worried that taking him away from it might trigger the spiral earlier. Without any good options, he'd feared he would be stuck, waiting and hoping for a miracle.

And then, a miracle had happened.

A miracle in the form of a fluffy-haired Sky.

When Takeshi walked into the store at the side of that young, pure Sky, Tsuyoshi couldn't believe his eyes. It had taken everything he had not to gape at them. Skies didn't just _appear_ out of nowhere, especially not Skies as pure and strong as this Sky. This boy defied all logic.

Tsuyoshi wasn't even surprised Takeshi had brought the boy to TakeSushi despite never having invited any of the school "friends" he'd known for five years now over, not when he could feel the pull of Harmony tugging and teasing between the pair of them. Nor was he surprised by the way his son's eyes couldn't seem to stop tracking the young Sky's movements with a heat so concentrated Tsuyoshi was almost surprised the Sky– _Kurosaki Tsunayoshi_ the boy introduced himself as, not a name he recognised as belonging to any Mafia or Yakuza families– didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps he was just so used to it.

As Tsuyoshi waved goodbye to the fluffy-haired boy he couldn't help his wide smile, feeling as if the weight of the world had just lifted from his shoulders. No matter what happened, regardless of what this Tsuna was involved in, he knew Takeshi would be happy now. And that was all he and Ami had ever wanted for his son. 

**_*Shintai - "body of the kami" are physical objects worshipped at or near as Shinto shrines as repositories in which spirits or Kami reside_ **


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR:**

— _the chains have pierced through his thin wrists, winding around his forearms, snaking up to wrap curl around his neck like a noose, and he's choking, he's choking, and Yuzu's so still in his arms, and the sky above him is a churning, stormy, bloody mess_ —

"TSUNA!"

Tsuna fell to his hands and knees. He could still feel the phantom chain pressed against his throat and his chest heaved as he tried to gasp for air, choking on the noose of his nightmares.

"Come on, Tsuna, breathe," Kon coaxed, "can you count to ten for me?"

"O-One," Tsuna panted, "two, three, four..." he trailed off, unable to think which number came next, not through the fog of terror.

"It's okay. It's okay, Tsuna. Just try again," Kon said soothingly.

It took several goes, but by the time he could count to ten, his breathing had slowed and the panic had receded to a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. Tsuna was finally able to take note of his surroundings and he looked around at the street in front of his house in dismay. It seemed he'd finally woken when he'd tripped over the curb out the front of the house, nearly walking onto the road. Lifting his hands, he saw the skin of his palms was torn and bleeding slightly from where it had scraped against the asphalt. His knees felt similarly raw.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked Kon helplessly.

"You went to Hell, Tsuna," Kon said quietly, and it was odd to see how serious a stuffed lion could look. "There are consequences to that."

Tsuna let out a shuddering breath as his gaze shifted down from his palms to his wrists, where the thin skin was marred by pale scars. He could still feel the phantom press of the chains burrowing under his skin, winding around his bones, and deeper, the links anchoring themselves to his very soul. It made him want to be sick and he could feel the edges of hysteria creeping up on him, sly and reaching.

Taking another deep breath and reaching for a calm that seemed to slip away from him like he was trying to grab for water with his bare hands, he rose stiffly to his feet. At least he'd worn a sleep shirt to bed this time, even if it was plastered to his skin from sweat. And he couldn't see any of his neighbours out staring at him, the strange, sleep-walking weirdo who'd moved next-door to them.

"What a great start to my first day of school," he said miserably.

"It can only get better from here, right?" Kon said encouragingly.

Tsuna just made another miserable sound before trudging back to the house.

After spending Saturday afternoon with Takeshi, Sunday had dragged by, like wading through the wide-spanning deserts of Hueco Mundo, feet sinking deep into the sucking grip of the sand with each struggling step forwards. He'd rung Yuzu before going to bed and they'd both teared up over the phone at the prospect of going to school without the other for the first time since they were five years old and just starting Elementary together.

It wasn't that Tsuna was dreading his first day because it was school; after getting caught in the middle of a war, being experimented on by a mad scientist and going to Hell, potential bullies and hard classes just didn't compare. It was more that the thought of the attention he might draw for transferring so late in the year was _exhausting_ , and the idea of not having his sisters at his side for support _hurt_. He and Yuzu and Karin had always been known by their classmates as the Kurosaki triplets– most of them hadn't even known that Tsuna was their cousin, not their brother. And now it felt like Tsuna's entire identity had been torn away from him. He didn't even know who Sawada Tsunayoshi was. Sawada Tsunayoshi was a stranger.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, Tsuna carefully cleaned his hands and knees of gravel, swiping antiseptic over the grazes with a light hiss through his teeth, before stepping into his lukewarm shower. Dressing in his new uniform, he tried not to resent the white shirt, crisp navy pants and navy vest for not being Karakura Primary's uniform.

"We need to approach this with positive minds," Yuzu had declared over the phone last night, her voice only trembling slightly. He was trying to follow her example, he really was, but as awful as he felt to think it, at least Yuzu still had Karin and Ichigo. He did have Kon, though, and he was so grateful to the Mod-Soul. More than he thought he could ever put into words.

"Will you be coming to school with me today?" he asked the stuffed lion hopefully.

"I know we joked around about it," Kon said slowly, "but you realise people really will think you're a weirdo if you show up with a stuffed lion that you talk to like it's sentient?"

"They might just think I'm charmingly quirky?" Tsuna said hopefully.

"Not a chance," Kon said flatly. "Kids are evil little shits."

Tsuna sighed. "I'd rather have you there, then any of them," he said. "Besides, Takeshi will be there, and he already knows about you."

"But it was just the two of you last time," Kon pointed out and Tsuna shrugged.

"If he's going to change his behaviour when there's other people around then I'm not interested in having him as a friend anyway," he said. "So, will you come?"

"Yeah, kid," Kon said, and Tsuna could hear the faint exasperation in the stuffed lion's voice, but he could also hear traces of something soft and pleased. "I'll come."

Tsuna and Kon met Nana down in the kitchen. She smiled at them and it was only slightly strained. She was having one of her better days, Tsuna was relieved to see. It would have been difficult to sort out the school paperwork if she was lost in a daze.

"I made breakfast," she said softly and Tsuna couldn't help his automatic cringe.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"Tsuna–"

"Mama, I'm not hungry," Tsuna insisted. Not with that tight knot of panic still in his stomach from the nightmare and his mouth still tasted of sulphur and iron. Not even the defeated slump of his mother's shoulders could change his mind and Nana sighed.

"Then let's go," she said quietly.

::

"It's quite unusual to have a transfer this late, Sawada-san," the principal of Namimori Elementary said, looking across her desk at Tsuna and Nana.

The school was a short walk from their house and after arriving, Tsuna and Nana had been ushered in to meet the principal, a short, slender woman with steel-grey hair and warm brown eyes.

"After my son was attacked, I simply didn't feel comfortable living in Karakura anymore," Nana explained. "We'd lived in Namimori previously and though I had been letting out the house, it fortunately happened to be between tenants, so my son and I were able to move in without any delays."

The principal's face softened and she sent Tsuna a sympathetic look. Tsuna tried not to squirm, looking down at his lap and picking anxiously at the hems of his blazer. "Of course, Sawada-san, I completely understand," she said. "Our children's safety is our utmost priority in life. We'll do anything to keep them safe."

"Yes," Nana agreed; her eyes, usually soft and warm, turned steely. " _Anything_."

As the two adults ironed out between them the finer details of Tsuna's schooling, most of which was already sorted thanks to the transcripts faxed over by Karakura Primary, Tsuna let his attention drift. He could faintly hear the sound of children calling out from the large oval where a sports lesson was taking place through the principal's window, which was opened just slightly, and he could almost imagine he was at one of Karin's games.

"One last thing, and then Tsunayoshi-kun can go join his new classmates," the principal said finally, and Tsuna straightened up, his pleasant daydream unravelling around him and leaving only an aching loss behind.

"Yes?" Nana asked.

"There's some small confusion regarding some of the transcripts sent from Tsunayoshi's teachers," the principal explained, "on several of the forms they've listed his name as Kurosaki Tsunayoshi, not Sawada Tsunayoshi."

"Ah," Nana said, with a tired realisation on her face and she smiled weakly at the principal. "That's the family name of my late-sister's family. We lived with her husband and three children, and the younger two were my Tsuna's age. They were very close, like brothers and sisters, and as Tsuna's relationship with his father is... distant, when he was young he started calling himself Kurosaki Tsuna and it stuck."

"And I still prefer it," Tsuna said, quiet but firm. The principal blinked at him in surprise then smiled warmly at him.

"Well," she said, "we'll have to keep your legal name on the official forms, of course, but... I suppose it isn't hurting anyone if the name of the class registry is slightly different."

Tsuna blinked up at her in surprise, unable to help the tentative smile he gave her in return. "Thank you." He said softly.

Maybe it wouldn't be quite as awful here as he'd feared.

With the last of the paperwork sorted, the three of them stood and Nana turned to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I know this isn't what you wanted," she said quietly, "and I know you miss them... but this could be the start of something wonderful, if you let it."

Tsuna smiled weakly up at her. "I'll try," he promised.

As his mother left, he trailed after the principal, clutching his schoolbag with Kon stashed safely inside tight. "I know that you'll only be here about a term and a half all up," the principal told him, "but I do hope that you'll find Namimori Elementary a welcoming environment."

"I hope so too," Tsuna mumbled and the principal smiled at him again before stopping and knocking on the door of one of the classrooms before opening it and stepping in. Tsuna took a deep breath and followed after her.

"Enatsu-sensei, this is Kurosaki Tsunayoshi," the principal introduced him to the teacher and about twenty pairs of staring eyes– one pair of which, Tsuna was relieved to see, belonged to Yamamoto Takeshi.

"Welcome, Kurosaki-san," Enatsu-sensei said politely and Tsuna bowed to her, mumbling a greeting.

The principal turned to him and smiled again. "If you have any questions or issues, my office is always open," she said, before nodding to Enatsu-sensei and exiting, closing the classroom door behind her with a very final sounding snap.

"Please take a seat, Kurosaki-san," Enatsu-sensei directed him calmly and Tsuna did as she said, sitting at one of the only empty desks left, in the front row of the classroom. It only took him a moment to realise that the lesson was on English and he almost slumped with relief that it wasn't maths– that would have been an awful way to introduce him to the class.

He focused on Enatsu-sensei's lecture, taking care to take careful notes in a notebook he pulled from his bag, but he couldn't help but find it all very basic. He guessed not everyone had an Ichigo in their lives, but still... it was going to be a very long term and a half.

When Enatsu-sensei set the class a reading comprehension activity, she approached him, a book in hand. "I noticed you didn't look very interested in the lesson content," she said calmly and Tsuna felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sensei," he apologised, but she just opened the book, placing it down on his desk.

"Can you translate this for me?" she asked.

Tsuna nodded, his eyes immediately scanning over the text. "'Oh! Grandmother,' Little Red-Riding Hood said, 'what big ears you have!'  
'The better to hear you with, my child,' was the reply.  
'But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!' she said.  
'The better to see you with, my dear.'  
'But, grandmother, what large hands you have!'  
'The better to hug you with.'  
'Oh! But, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!'  
'The better to eat you with!'"

"That's enough," Enatsu-sensei said, and she was smiling. " _How well can you speak English?_ "

" _I read it better_ ," Tsuna admitted.

" _You're more advanced than most of your age group,_ " she told him, before returning to Japanese. "I'm afraid we don't offer accelerated classes, but I do assign different work to more advanced students."

Tsuna nodded awkwardly. Being called an 'advanced student' felt... strange. Unpleasant. He'd never been anything but perfectly average (if somewhat eccentric) Tsuna and he'd been perfectly happy with that. It felt as if the eyes of his classmates were boring into the back of his neck, singling him out, and while it didn't _scare_ him, it didn't feel _good_ either.

When the lunch bell finally rang, Tsuna couldn't help but feel relieved. He wasn't sure what he was planning on doing as the principal hadn't shown him where he was supposed to go, but that was solved for him when Takeshi casually made his way over and leaned against his desk. His fake-smile was firmly in place, yet behind the faux-friendly façade was a collapsing star, a black hole, a _void,_ that sucked Tsuna in, just as much as it made him want to shy away.

There was just something so comforting about the familiarity amidst all this uncertainty and there was a part of him that would never be able to stop seeing the Eleventh, Yumichika and Yachiru in particular, as his saviours, the ones who'd been there for him in the aftermath of his time spent with Clown Face when he was raw and angry and filled with the sort of fire that wanted to see everything just _burn_. How could he not be drawn to this boy, who reminded him of all the best and worst parts of them?

"Hi Takeshi," he said with a hesitant smile up at Takeshi, fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer.

"Hey Tsuna," Takeshi greeted him. "So you're in my class, huh? How cool is that?"

"Very cool," Tsuna agreed and Takeshi laughed, bright and fake.

"So, what do you think of Namimori Elementary so far?" he asked and Tsuna shrugged a bit awkwardly.

"It's okay," he said, which was about the nicest thing he could think to say. Positive attitude, he reminded himself. Yuzu said to have a positive attitude. "But I've only seen the principal's office and this classroom so far."

"Want me to show you around?" Takeshi offered and Tsuna nodded gratefully.

"That would be really nice, thank you," he said and Takeshi grinned.

"Hey, what are friends for?"

Takeshi's tour was surprisingly thorough as he led Tsuna around the small yet busy school, showing him its lunch room and playgrounds and playing field. It was all very ordinary and uninteresting and Tsuna wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. 

It was while he was showing Tsuna where the indoor multi-purpose hall that doubled as the school gym was that Takeshi was briefly waylaid, called over by a handful of students he explained were part of the baseball team. "I'll be back in a moment," he promised before jogging over to them and Tsuna nodded, not fussed. Kon took the oppurtunity Takeshi's absence gave them to poke his head out of Tsuna's backpack, a pleased look on the stuffed lion's face.

"Today seems to be going well," he said.

"I think it really is," Tsuna replied, honestly a little bit surprised and he couldn't help but beam down at Kon's little fuzzy face as the stuffed lion held up a paw to high-five.

Only, to Tsuna's dismay, it seemed as if he and Kon had spoken too soon as reflex alone had him side-stepping what would have been a rough shove back against the wall. In hindsight, it should have seemed inevitable that the moment Takeshi left him alone he'd be cornered by bullies– opportunistic scavengers were always scenting out potential new prey. 

There were only two of them, both boys who Tsuna vaguely recognised as part of his class, and he sighed as they tried to loom threateningly over him. "Can you please just leave me alone?" he requested tiredly. "I don't want to get into trouble for fighting on my first day."

"You think this will be a fight?" The boy to his left asked derisively. "You're going to give us your lunch money, teacher's pet, and then we're very kindly going to let you go."

Tsuna considered going along with it for about half a second, before deciding _no_. Just _no_.

"At least I can tell mama I tried," he muttered, before focusing on his would-be bullies. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to turn down your... generous offer," he told them and the bully on the right's face screwed up in anger, his fist balling up.

Tsuna reacted to the threat of violence with the instinct that war, trauma, Ichigo and the Eleventh had all beaten into his very soul. The boy's fist was easy to duck and Tsuna's counterstrike was pure reflex as he slammed the heel of his palm into the boy's solar plexus. The boy gagged at the direct hit, stumbling back as he choked for air; it was always an effective place to strike, as the diaphragm spasmed, making it impossible to breathe, and as muscle couldn't be developed over the area even well-built people could be taken down if there was enough force behind the strike.

Tsuna was already turning to the other boy, prepared to defend himself, only to see that Takeshi had returned and had caught the other boy's arm and twisted it, not quite to the point of a sprain but there was a dangerous look in his eyes that spoke of a violence that Tsuna didn't think he was quite prepared for the situation to escalate to. "Takeshi," he said firmly, catching the other boy's eyes with his own, "that's enough." When Takeshi didn't look like he was listening, Tsuna stepped closer, keeping eye contact. "Takeshi," he repeated, " _that's enough_. They're prey not worth sharpening your teeth on." Takeshi blinked slowly before letting go and the boy scrambled back.

"You're freaks," he hissed, rubbing at the red marks Takeshi had left on his wrist. His friend was still desperately wheezing for breath.

"You're the ones who tried to bully me into handing over my lunch money," Tsuna pointed out, a bit put off by the hypocrisy. "If we're freaks, what does that say about you?"

The boy just glared at him. "Come on, Daichi," he snapped, grabbing his still-wheezing friend, "let's get away from these losers."

" _We're_ the losers?" Tsuna asked, faintly incredulous, before turning back to Takeshi. Takeshi didn't look like he'd heard a word of what Daichi and his friend had been saying; he was too busy staring at Tsuna, looking as if he wanted to open up his hungry heart to eat him alive.

"I _knew_ it," he said, stepping forwards to close the distance between them, so they were standing closer than was proper, even amongst friends, "I _knew_ it." The dark-haired boy's eyes were gleaming, like a wolf on a hunt. "You're not like the others," Takeshi said, fervent, "you _see_ me, don't you?"

With Takeshi this close, Tsuna could feel a heat singing from under his skin, dancing in the air between them. Takeshi felt like vast, still waters, the deceptively tranquil surfaces hiding the deadly, sharp-toothed dangers deep below, and something in Tsuna's chest purred _mineminemine_. 

Takeshi swayed slightly before him, his pupils dilated; he looked almost drunk and Tsuna reluctantly stepped back from him, forcing the heat to uncurl from Takeshi, to sink back under his skin. Takeshi blinked, his eyes slowly focusing again.

"You _see_ me," he repeated, almost desperate-sounding, and Tsuna nodded.

"I do," he agreed, because he did. Takeshi might have made all his hunger fit under his skin, but Tsuna could _see_ him. "I think," he said slowly, as Takeshi continued to stare, "we should spar some time. I'd like to see you show your teeth."

And as Takeshi _smiled_ , all _sharp_ and _real_ , Tsuna felt the heat inside him purr again. He didn't know what it was, he guessed it had something to do with those strange orange flames that had helped him escape Clown Face, the ones that got all clingy around Yuzu, that were happiest curled around where she burned bright and brilliant and blinding, but he honestly didn't care. He just held out his hand to Takeshi and when the other boy's hand closed around his, everything hurt a little _less_. 


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE:**

Tsuna wasn’t expecting Takeshi to drag him back to his place after school that very day, but in hindsight, he really should have. Takeshi had barely stepped two feet away from him since the confrontation with the two would-be bullies. The press of the other boy’s fingers had left small marks on his wrist from Takeshi’s clinging and he’d even asked the student sitting next to Tsuna in the undesirable front row of the classroom if they could swap seats so he could sit next to Tsuna.

Tsuna was... confused. He was used to people gravitating towards Yuzu and Ichigo, like they were two bright, brilliant, burning stars drawing planets into orbit, but not him. He was just perfectly average Tsuna.

...except that wasn’t quite true, was it? He remembered when the Eleventh had “rescued” him; he’d always said they’d been surprisingly easy to befriend, which they had been. And considering most of them were bloodthirsty maniacs, he was on shockingly good terms with them– Yachiru in particular still seemed to keep coming back to him, keen on making time to “play” despite her responsibilities. Having that sort of draw... that was more Ichigo-like then Tsuna-like.

That wasn’t a comforting thought to him at all. Ichigo and Yuzu were caretakers by nature; they took care of their people, though in remarkably different fashions– Ichigo by defeating all possible threats and ending wars, and Yuzu by keeping her family and friends fed and happy, making sure they had a safe place to come home to. Tsuna just... existed. What could he offer?

... _understanding_ , he thought, remembering Takeshi’s near-reverent words.

Acceptance, too. And maybe, he thought, his chest warming as Takeshi’s fingers tightened around his wrist, a solid anchor to the present, maybe that was enough.

::

Tsuyoshi looked up the moment his son entered the shop and his eyes widened. There was no mistaking just how Flame-drunk Takeshi was, clinging to the young fluffy-haired Sky he’d brought in a day ago. Tsuyoshi couldn’t help but feel proud of his son; to be that compatible with a Sky was impressive, youth or no. He was also concerned because the way the Sky was leaking his Flames all over the place spoke of either poor, sloppy control or complete ignorance. And considering the strength of those Flames, there was a very low chance that any Yakuza with such a Sky in their possession would not have trained that Sky up.

Tsuyoshi wasn’t about to let his son’s Sky walk around vulnerable and ignorant. Not when his very existence had saved Takeshi– helping the young Sky was the very least he could do in return.

Tsuna’s eyes snapped over to him the very second the decision had finalised in his mind, burning a sudden orange, and Tsuyoshi smiled even as something inside him quivered, like prey before a predator. An unusual feeling for a retired Hitman before a pre-teen boy. But being pinned under the seemingly all-seeing stare of a Sky was a formidable thing and he’d heard whispers about the intuition of powerful Skies. Though usually those were bloodline Skies, he’d never heard of a civilian Sky with such power.

“Tsuna,” he said, “son,” and now Takeshi was pinning him in place too, eyes sharp as a freshly whetted blade, “I think we need to talk.”

Though really, at this point, that was an understatement.

He ended up closing the shop. He could afford the loss of profits for an afternoon and this wasn’t the sort of conversation that could be had where it might be overheard.

He took Takeshi and Tsuna upstairs to the privacy of their house. Takeshi was watching him with suspicious eyes, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his Sky’s wrist and Tsuyoshi took it as a good sign that Tsuna didn’t seem perturbed by the clingy closeness that was unusual in Japanese culture. Considering Tsuna must be running entirely on instinct, he appeared to be doing a fairly good job of it. The fabled acceptance of Skies at work, he couldn’t help but think with a small amount of longing.

“Please, both of you, sit,” he invited as they reached the living room, folding himself down on one of the tatami mats. After a moment, Tsuna and Takeshi mirrored him. “Now, I want to start by impressing upon you both the seriousness of what I’m about to tell you,” he said, wishing he could spare them both, but knowing that to leave such a young Sky defenceless was just asking for the vultures to come circling. And should anything happen to his son’s Sky... their bond was only a fledgling one now, but it would grow and if it was broken, Tsuyoshi dreaded the fall out.

“There are secrets in this world protected by an unbreakable code known as omertà,” he continued. “Secrets that people know to die before revealing. Secrets that are your birthright. Both of you.”

Tsuna’s eyes were still faintly orange.

“This is about the fire, isn’t it?” He said softly and Tsuyoshi almost shivered at the evidence of a Sky’s intuition at work.

“Yes,” he confirmed as his son looked between them both. “It is.”

Tsuna hummed quietly and lifted his free hand, the one Takeshi wasn’t clinging to, and Tsuyoshi gasped as it was suddenly wreathed in brilliant orange flame. It licked around his fingers like true fire, dancing about almost hypnotically.

“Wicked,” breathed Takeshi, and before Tsuyoshi could even think to stop him, his son reached over and entwined the fingers of his free hand with Tsuna’s Flame-wreathed hand.

The burst of bright, brilliant Rain flames was practically expected at this point and Tsuyoshi almost wanted to sigh at these two boys, so determined to sprint before learning to even crawl. At least the sudden influx of Rain Flames seemed to be having a tranquillising effect on them both. Maybe now they would actually listen to his explanation on Dying Will Flames and Guardian Bonds.

And listen they did, even though Takeshi didn’t let go of Tsuna, half in his Sky’s lap at this point, and Tsuna had a somewhat stunned look on his face as he kept looking between Takeshi and back up at Tsuyoshi, his gaze switching between soft and piercing as he did. But Tsuyoshi did not doubt for a moment that Tsuna was absorbing every word he said and by his narrowing eyes, he did not seem impressed.

“So people are going to want to hurt Tsuna,” Takeshi spoke first between the pair, once he’d finished explaining about the underworld of organised crime and what Flames were and how they worked and how Skies were the rarest and most coveted of Flame types. “They’re going to want to take him, because of his Flame, and use him.”

“They will,” Tsuyoshi confirmed with a heavy heart and Takeshi, still holding Tsuna’s wrist with one hand and threaded his fingers through Tsuna’s with the other, looked grim-faced and determined.

“Dad,” he said, “I need you to teach me how to fight– with a sword and with Flames.”

“And if you could teach me what you know about how to hide my Flames, I would be grateful,” Tsuna added softly.

“Of course,” Tsuyoshi agreed to both. “I will help however I can.”

Takeshi and Tsuna smiled at him, perfectly in synch, and even with the potential for danger their bond brought them both, Tsuyoshi couldn’t help but smile helplessly back at them.

::

It felt like Tsuna could feel Takeshi’s Flames alongside his own. He couldn’t call them _burning_ , because the Flames didn’t feel as if they burned, not really, but they thrummed with _life_ , with _energy_ , with the beat of Takeshi’s heart, and Tsuna could feel the perfect harmony where Takeshi’s Flame had intertwined with his own.

It felt... _right_. It just _fit_ , it felt like Takeshi _belonged_ with him, like he’d known him all his life, not just a handful of days.

“I should... I should ring Ichigo and the others,” he mumbled to Kon, from where he was splayed out on his bed, his mind spinning from everything they had learned that afternoon– Kon, of course, had eavesdropped on everything from his backpack. Tsuyoshi may have warned him and Takeshi about omertà but like hell was Tsuna going to be intimidated by some distant criminal organisation that masqueraded as “police” to murderers and rapists and perpetrators of human misery. What was the worst they could do anyway– kill him? Ha! That would be their mistake– because, to quote Disney, Tsuna had friends on the other side.

“Before you do,” Kon said, and he sounded so uncharacteristically subdued that he had Tsuna’s attention at once, “I... I want to try something. Can you– can you do the Flame thing again? With your hand?”

“Sure?” Tsuna said, confused but willing. Tsuyoshi had asked him about his ability to call forth his Flames and Tsuna had mumbled something about anime. He didn’t think Tsuyoshi believed him. He wouldn’t have believed him either– probably because it wasn’t true. The truth was, after he’d escaped Kurotsuchi’s lab he’d had nightmares about being back there and when he’d wake up he’d have to summon his flames in order to feel safe again, to know he was free, to remind himself that he’d escaped, that he’d saved himself. It was a habit that had started in desperation and turned into something self-soothing when he was feeling distressed.

Bringing forth his Sky Flame now, he was both surprised and not when Kon hopped forwards and pressed a fuzzy paw against his hand. Purple Flames, like storm clouds and lavender and quartz, swirled into existence and Tsuna smiled softly down at Kon, even as he felt something slot into place inside him, like a piece of a puzzle fitting perfectly in place, another Flame intertwined with his own.

“See?” He said softly. “You have Flames. You’re as real and as alive as I am, Kon.”

He knew Kon had been testing himself, testing his personhood, more than seeking a bond. As a Mod-Soul, Kon was an artificial soul, rather than a naturally occurring one, and Tsuna knew that it bothered Kon. That he felt... lesser. But he was no less real for how he was created. He was still a person. He was as much a soul as the rest of them.

And he was apparently a Cloud. It didn’t surprise Tsuna. Yamamoto had described Clouds as wanting independence, the ability to choose and not just having the choice thrust upon them. Kon had always wanted to be free from Soul Society and he had always wanted to choose not to fight and kill, despite the fact that he’d been created as a conscript soldier in the fight against Hollows.

“Fu–reaking hell, no wonder that kid was so clingy,” Kon muttered, dazed, and Tsuna very carefully did not say anything about how Kon’s Flames seemed to nestle up against his own, “you feel... like _home_. Like _belonging_.”

Kon seemed to realise what he’d said a moment later because he cleared his throat and said gruffly, “you should ring the madhouse. Let ‘em know what’s going on.”

Tsuna, sensing Kon’s somewhat desperate need for the attention to turn away from him and their new bond, quickly fished his phone out of his backpack and rang Ichigo, putting the phone on speaker so Kon could contribute.

::

Ichigo, Yuzu, and Karin had conferenced Kisuke into the call, and along with Tsuna and Kon, the six of them sat silently after Tsuna finished explaining about Dying Will Flames and how they were connected to the underground world of organised crime, hidden by omertà.

“It’s perplexing that we haven’t heard of this before,” Kisuke said finally, and Tsuna assumed he was referring to Soul Society.

Ichigo snorted.

“The Shinigami would have to actually pay real attention to the Human World first,” he said. “And if most humans don’t know about this shit, then the Shinigami sure as shit wouldn’t. And after the humans who do know about them die... well, these are people involved in organised crime we’re talking about– murderers, drug and human traffickers, scum like that. Most of them probably end up in Hell. And those that don’t, well, what does Soul Society care about those who live in the outer Districts of the Rukongai?”

“Very little,” Kisuke conceded without any attempt to argue for or defend Soul Society, which was wise of him when Ichigo was building up to a rant. “But they surely would have investigated any reports of Rukongai citizens using these Flames.”

“Unless they couldn’t?” Tsuna suggested quietly, hugging Kon to his chest. Kon put up with it. “They might not have had enough spiritual presence after they died to use them? Or– or maybe it’s just not possible to use the Flames after dying? Yamamoto-san called them Dying Will Flames- he said you have to be near death to activate them. Or– maybe the Flames attract Hollows and they get eaten too quickly to be noticed?”

“Interesting,” Kisuke muttered, and it sounded like he was scribbling something down. “And you said the first time you activated them was when you were with... er...” he trailed off.

“With Kurotsuchi,” Tsuna said quietly. “But...” he hesitated. “But I think– I think I may have activated them before.”

“Oh?” Kisuke asked, clearly curious but clearly just as hesitant about pushing for more detail.

“I remember my first thought when I activated them,” Tsuna said softly, hugging Kon even tighter, “it wasn’t ‘I’m finally free’, it was ‘I’m finally warm again’.”

There was a grim silence for a moment before Ichigo spoke.

“You always had nightmares when you were younger,” he said and his voice sounded rough. “You’d wake up and cry about being cold. We’d wrap you up in blankets but you didn’t want them, you’d always want skin contact– with me or Yuzu.”

“I think you two are Skies,” Tsuna admitted. “And I think... I think I was searching for my own Sky Flames and yours were the closest substitute. Something... something happened to them when I was little. Something that blocked my access to them until I was in so much danger that whatever blocked them was broken by my sheer will to survive.”

“You have an idea, don’t you, Tsu?” Yuzu said gently. Tsuna sniffed, his eyes suddenly burning.

“The last time I saw my father,” he said, and despite himself he was surprised to hear his voice had choked up. “I was four years old. That was before I came to live with you. Yamamoto-san says he’s never heard of a civilian Sky as strong as I am. And obviously, he’s never met Ichigo or Yuzu, but... there’s a lot about Iemitsu that’s never added up. And there’s just something that’s telling me it’s his fault, all the years of being cold and clumsy and struggling to think clearly.”

“You told us that Yamamoto-san said that Skies have good intuition,” Karin pointed out, in her straightforward but kind manner. “You’re probably right. It probably is that bastard’s fault.”

Tsuna bowed his head, and Kon rubbed his fuzzy cheek against Tsuna’s own. It was surprisingly soothing. He could swear he could feel how lavender Flames sang against his Flames, in a way that was just as soothing.

“Tsuna-kun,” Kisuke said, drawing his attention back to the phone, “I want you to know that this is, of course, entirely optional, but–“

“Of course you’re welcome to visit and run some tests,” Tsuna said, smiling down at the phone. He could practically hear Kisuke’s surprised silence. “I’d actually really like you to. I want this figured out and you’re the smartest person I know.”

Tsuna knew Kisuke expected him to have... issues with scientists and with having tests and experiments performed on him considering his experience with Kurotsuchi. And he did. But he trusted Kisuke– he’d spent too much of his childhood relying on the man to keep Ichigo and later Karin alive to not trust him. And Kisuke had always been so kind to him. He was practically family, more so then Isshin had ever been.

“Excellent!” Kisuke practically chirped after a silence that was a beat too long, giving him away despite his upbeat, casual tone. “Hopefully I’ll get all this figured out and then Ichigo will have another set of powers to master.”

“It will probably only take him a day or two, at most,” Karin said dryly.

“Such a terrifying brat,” Kisuke agreed with a sigh. Tsuna couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that they were teasing Ichigo to set him at ease, but it was working anyway.

“Don’t worry about this, Tsuna,” Ichigo said firmly, speaking with the sort of world-bending, earth-stopping, mountain-splitting conviction that had the power to topple gods and bring about revolutions in millennia-old societies. He couldn’t _not_ believe in Ichigo’s confidence, his surety, as he declared, “you will be safe. We won’t let this endanger you.”

“Thank you, Ichi-nii,” Tsuna said, a little choked, his heart warm in his chest as he was cocooned in the feeling of protection that was so unique to Ichigo, no matter how far away his older brother was.


	6. Chapter 6

****SIX:** **

— _Yuzu-Yuzu-why isn’t she waking up-there are chains coming out of his wrists, they’re choking him, they’re choking him, the air is choking him, burning down his throat, bitter and acrid and sulphur, and why isn’t Yuzu moving-he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe_ —

Tsuna woke wheezing and gasping for air that wouldn’t come, his whole body shaking violently. The floor was moving under his feet and his vision whited out. He didn’t remember falling but when he came to he was on the ground. Kon was next to him, the stuffed lion stroking his face with a fuzzy paw wreathed with lavender-dawn-Cloud Flames that sang to the orange-Sky Flames inside him. Kon was talking, his voice calm and steady, telling Tsuna his name, the date, where he was, over and over, taking deep, audible breaths as he did so.

Tsuna gradually became aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t outside for once, but he was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs and his entire body hurt, throbbing like an enormous bruise.

“Did I fall?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“You did,” Kon said sounding tense. “You weren’t breathing properly, you were swaying all over the place. I tried to wake you, because I was scared you were going to fall if you tried going down the stairs, but you just fell into a panic attack and passed out and fell down them anyway.”

Tsuna closed his eyes again, exhaustion weighing him down. It felt like his bones were made of lead and he wished he never had to move again. How easy it had been, to go from the feeling of warmth and protection of the day before to the overwhelming horror and helplessness of Hell.

“I hate this,” he whispered, turning his head so his face was pressed against the ground. Kon sighed.

“I know, Tsuna,” he murmured, “I know.”

::

It was only around three in the morning, but Tsuna didn’t dare fall back asleep. He didn’t think he’d manage to, even if he wanted. Kon’s coaxing couldn’t convince him to move, and he laid at the bottom of the stairs for hours, until at six Kon brought out the big guns and threatened to call Yuzu. Tsuna dragged himself up and into the shower, leaving the door open and blasting only cold water, terrified at the thought of heat, the memory of _burning-scalding-boiling_ against his skin too prominent.

Realising how listless Tsuna was, Kon had thoughtfully dragged out his uniform for him and Tsuna dressed in a daze, barely present. It didn’t help that Nana was having a bad day too– she barely looked at Tsuna as she drifted around the kitchen, her eyes as far away as his own, looking toward something only she could see.

It was Kon who forced him out the door, forced him to drag his feet towards Namimori Elementary. Tsuna would probably feel grateful later, but he was too dissociated at present. Takeshi was waiting for him at the school gates and he took one look at the paleness of Tsuna’s face, at the dark circles under his eyes, and without a word he wrapped an arm over his shoulders, gently steering him to the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Hey Tsuna, bring out your Flame,” he urged. Tsuna blinked, confused, but did as Takeshi asked. Takeshi grasped onto his Flame-wreathed hand, his own hand lighting up with soft blue Rain Flames and Tsuna immediately felt a wave of calm wash through him, like sinking into a soothing, tranquil bath.

“Oh,” he said, immediately relaxing, easing out of his disassociated state. It wasn’t a perfect fix, he could still taste bitter, acrid smoke at the back of his throat, could still feel the phantom chains around his neck, but he actually felt fully present and in the moment for the first time since waking, the panic having eased. He smiled gratefully at Takeshi. “Thank you,” he said fervently and Takeshi grinned back at him, sharp and satisfied.

“It’s my job,” he said. “And,” he added, “it’s a job I’m happy to do.”

Tsuna’s day was better after that. His whole body hurt and he was developing some impressive bruises under his uniform from his tumble down the stairs, but at least he was actually functioning again. He took a brief bathroom break before lunch to apologise to Kon for that morning and Kon had lightly hit him for being an idiot, telling him he didn’t need to apologise for something that wasn’t his fault.

Lunch was… difficult. He tried to eat, because Takeshi was giving him stern looks, but every time he tried, his throat would close up and the rice would taste like ashes in his mouth. Eventually he just pushed it all away. Takeshi frowned but didn’t argue. He should have realised that for the trap it was, because as soon as the school bell rang for the end of the day Takeshi dragged him straight to TakeSushi.

“Ah, back again?” Tsuyoshi asked with a wide smile as they entered the shop.

“Tsuna didn’t like his lunch today,” Takeshi explained as Tsuna smiled hesitantly up at him. “I brought him here for the best sushi in Japan.”

Tsuna felt his cheeks redden. “I’m really not hungry,” he mumbled.

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Takeshi said, and Tsuna didn't correct that assumption as Takeshi practically shoved him down in one of the booths while Tsuyoshi looked on in amusement. “Nourishment is important for the body to function.”

Tsuna slumped in place, giving up on arguing with Takeshi even as his stomach churned and his throat tightened at the very idea of trying to eat. But there was a part of him that felt... _warmed_ by Takeshi’s concern. That the other boy had noticed and cared enough about his wellbeing to drag him here and insist that he eat. For that alone, he managed to choke down two sushi rolls under Takeshi’s sharp eyes, only for his stomach to roll with nausea that had him bolting in the direction he vaguely remembered the bathroom been.

He threw everything up, even bile, and was still dry heaving as Tsuyoshi laid a cool hand over his forehead. “S-Sorry,” he managed, when his stomach finally stopped its violent protest.

Tsuyoshi handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth which Tsuna did gratefully.

“Are you feeling ill, Tsuna?” He asked, concerned.

“My stomach has just been a little off lately,” Tsuna told him, which wasn’t a lie exactly. Tsuyoshi nodded, still looking concerned.

“Make sure you let someone know if it’s getting worse, okay?” he said and Tsuna quickly nodded.

Takeshi hovered nearby, a frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to make you sick,” he said and there was a tight, unhappy look about his eyes that Tsuna immediately wanted to soothe away. 

“You didn’t,” he assured his friend, his _Rain_. “I made myself sick. One of the first things I learned when I started training was to listen to my body, and I didn’t,” he explained, reaching out to gently squeeze Takeshi’s hand and smile. “So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Takeshi didn’t look fully convinced but he nodded anyway, some of that tension easing. And when the other boy insisted on walking him home, well, Tsuna didn’t argue– he could feel how important it was to Takeshi, and if it was important to Takeshi it was important to him.

He wondered if that was what it meant to be a Sky.

::

Tsuna had finished his homework for the afternoon when his phone rang. Seeing who it was, he was already smiling as he answered. “Ichi-nii!”

“Hey Tsuna,” Ichigo greeted him casually. “You home?”

“I am,” Tsuna confirmed.

“Cool,” Ichigo said and then hung up. Tsuna frowned down at his phone, puzzled. A moment later, he was staring wide-eyed out his bedroom window into his backyard as one of the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun seemed to unfurl. Tsuna’s heart felt as if it had stopped in his chest, and one moment he was fumbling for his Quincy Cross, hissing for Kon, the next he was watching in amazement as Ichigo, the twins and Kisuke rose from the shadows.

Tsuna couldn’t rush downstairs and out the door fast enough. The moment he was outside he practically threw himself into Yuzu’s arms. She hugged him back and Ichigo laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair as Karin nudged him affectionately and Kisuke smiled fondly over at them all. “What are you guys doing here?” Tsuna asked, breathless with delight– and also because Yuzu had been squeezing him very tightly with her hug. “And _how_ are you guys here?”

“Quincy shadow technique,” Ichigo told him nonchalantly. “Started figuring it out after I learned you were moving away– I’m not going to be stuck travelling for hours to get to you, what if you need me?”

Tsuna had to blink away tears. That was just so… _Ichigo_. His big brother, always the protector. Tsuna would never want it any other way.

“It took him about three days to learn, of course,” Kisuke told him, sounding as exasperated as always with Ichigo’s frankly absurd learning curve, but with that spark of wonder too. “And then another two days to learn how to take people with him.”

“Like I said,” Ichigo shrugged, “we weren’t about to leave you alone.”

Tsuna couldn’t quite hold back his tears this time but Ichigo’s arms were familiar and reassuring around him as he clung to his big brother, hiding the wetness in his eyes against Ichigo’s shirt.

“Not that I’m not so happy to see you,” he said, when his eyes were finally dry and he’d pulled away from Ichigo, “but what are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to see if we can be your Elements,” Yuzu told him brightly.

“What?” Tsuna asked blankly, not quite understanding what she’d just said.

“You told us that Yamamoto-san said you’re in danger,” Ichigo explained briskly. “And that he said the more Elements you have, the stronger you’ll be. So we’re here to see if any of us are compatible.”

“But you’re a Sky,” Tsuna protested, absolutely confident in his belief, despite the fact he’d only just learned about Dying Will Flames. “And so are you, Yuzu!”

“Probably,” Ichigo shrugged. “But you told us Yamamoto said people can have Secondary Flames if they’re powerful enough. And I kind of have a habit of being ridiculously overpowered. So– do your Flame thing to help us activate ours, like you did that other kid.” Ichigo held his hand out expectantly, without any kind of ceremony. Which was just so... _Ichigo_.

Tsuna obediently brought his Flame forth and Ichigo’s larger hand gently clasped his smaller one. Immediately, deep orange Flames intertwined with flickering black, inky darkness burst into existence. 

The black Flames looked nothing like any of the Dying Will Flames described by Tsuyoshi. Even as they harmonised with Tsuna’s Sky, slotting into place like they’d always belonged, they felt different to the Rain and Cloud Flames. More all-encompassing, overwhelming, _intense_. Tsuna actually staggered in place and it was only Ichigo’s firm grip that kept him upright as their song rang out like a crescendo of war drums, speeding up for the inevitable clash of armies.

Ichigo sighed. “Of course,” he said, sounding very matter of fact in his resignation. “Of course something weird and unexplainable happens. Because it’s me and nothing can ever be simple.”

Kisuke, on the other hand, looked delighted. Ichigo clearly noticed.

“I’m not going to be able to escape him for days now,” he groused. Though Tsuna noticed he didn’t actually seem upset by the prospect.

“Poor you,” Karin said, entirely unsympathetic. “I bet they’re super powerful too. Probably the most powerful and rare of all the Flame types.”

“I’m not betting against that,” Tsuna said immediately, shaking his head. “Only an idiot would.”

“Snarky, sarcastic little shits, the pair of you,” Ichigo grumbled, but his tone was still fond. “Yuzu’s my favourite.”

“Well, _duh_ ,” Karin huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Yuzu’s everyone’s favourite.” Tsuna added, nodding along with Karin.

Yuzu’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re all awful,” she declared, before turning to Tsuna. “Are you ready to try?” She asked. Tsuna still felt fairly overwhelmed by Ichigo’s inky-dark Flames, but he still nodded, something telling him that it would be okay– and he’d learned to trust those feelings. His _intuition_. 

Like Ichigo, Yuzu’s hand lit up with a soft, burnished orange Flame, like a picturesque sunset. Unlike Ichigo, there was no secondary Flame.

“Pure Sky,” Kisuke said, fascinated, as the twin orange flames flickered playfully around Tsuna and Yuzu’s joined hands. To Tsuna, it almost felt as if his Flames were purring and there was a warm contentment in his chest. Yuzu, however, looked downcast.

“Sorry, Tsuna,” she said sadly.

“Don’t be,” Tsuna said earnestly. “Don’t be sorry. You kept me warm for so many years, Yuzu. Without you...” he trailed off and shuddered, remembering the pervasive, oppressive cold. “You’re my Sky, Yuzu. My home.”

Yuzu beamed at him, throwing her arms around him again, and Tsuna could feel the brush of her Flames singing against his as he hugged her tightly, a sensation so familiar he _knew_ he must have been feeling her previously-latent Flames for years, keeping him warm. There may not be a Sky-Element bond between them, but there was definitely a bond between their Flames– and he dared anyone to try and argue differently with him. 

“Me next,” Karin said, stepping forwards when Yuzu finally let go, but Tsuna couldn’t help but feel hesitant.

“Are you sure you want me? Not Yuzu?” He asked Karin nervously. He didn’t ever want her to regret her choice, or for her to feel like she was only choosing him because she felt she was obligated to because he could be in danger while Yuzu was safe under the banner of Ichigo’s protection and Ichigo was safe because he was Ichigo.

Karin snorted. “Don’t be stupid,” she ordered. “You’re my brother, Tsuna. Besides, who says I can’t have all three of you as my Skies? We’re _Kurosakis,_ since when have we followed the rules set by mere peons?”

Tsuna couldn’t help but smile. “Never,” he said, and he reached for her hand.

His sister’s Flames slotted perfectly into place within his Sky, like she’d always belonged there. Her vibrant green Lightning crackled and sparked with his steady orange Sky and he beamed at her.

“I knew it!” He crowed.

Lightning was the Flame of ambition, for those who wanted to achieve something. Karin had always worked hard for her goals, first in soccer and now she’d started learning how to use her Shinigami powers.

Karin looked at her crackling fist in satisfaction. “I wonder what would happen if I punched a Hollow with this?” She mused.

Kisuke’s face lit up.

Ichigo’s turned to horror.

And Tsuna _laughed_.

::

****A/N: the mental state that created the Flame of Night has been described as the last stage of Dying Will where every cell in a body is ready to die for an objective to defeat someone, engulfing a person in their Dying Will. Does this fit Ichigo, or what?** **

****Also, while some might consider the harmonising 'too fast', technically they've been courting for years. They just didn't know it and their Flames weren't active. Also, this is fanfiction, so... :)** **


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN:**

Tsuna couldn't help but beam happily and helplessly at his family, his Flames a sappy, singing mess in his chest, even a half hour after their harmonising. Kisuke had busied himself with tests– Tsuna didn't even try to understand them, as some involved normal things like taking blood and hair samples, while others involved channelling his Flames into different and increasingly bizarre looking instruments and apparatuses, including what looked bewilderingly like a jellyfish in a bell jar. 

Kisuke hadn't offered to harmonise with Tsuna, but Tsuna hadn't expected him to. He didn't need intuition to know that there would only be one Sky in Kisuke's life– he just wondered how long it would be before the scientist got around to asking Ichigo or if Ichigo would just put the man out of his misery.

Yuzu and Karin chatted to him about school as Kisuke walked Tsuna through the experiments, Karin talking about her soccer and Shinigami training while Yuzu, blushing slightly, revealed that she'd asked their 'Uncle' Ryuuken to continue her Quincy lessons.

"I need to learn more," she said, with a fierceness in her eyes. Tsuna understood. She had been made helpless, they both had, and neither of them ever wanted to feel that way again.

"How are you going to keep up your training here, Tsuna?" Ichigo asked with a frown.

"I don't know how I'm going to keep up my Quincy training," Tsuna admitted, "but I'm planning on joining the kendo club at school and asking Yamamoto-san for lessons– he's a master swordsman. He actually used to be an assassin."

"He's the father of your Rain, right? The one who told you about these Dying Will Flames," Ichigo said thoughtfully, the look on his face a bit too casual. "Maybe I should go have a chat with him."

"Ichi-nii, no!" Tsuna squeaked, alarmed. "Don't scare him off! He's retired! Also, he might be unhappy that I broke omertà, or he might be bound by some sort of mafia code to report that I've broken it, and I don't want to start any sort of trouble."

"You don't think I could win a war against these bull-sh... _sham_ mafia police?" Ichigo asked, a bit insulted.

"Of course you could," Tsuna said, surprised that Ichigo could ever think that Tsuna would doubt him. "It's not a matter of 'could' it's a matter of 'should'."

"Hmm," Ichigo looked over at him, a flatly considering expression on his face, "I suppose we'll keep it as a 'wait and see' situation, then."

Knowing that was the best he was going to get, Tsuna nodded gratefully.

"Now that that's sorted," Kisuke announced, "I have one more experiment to run today. She should be arriving any moment."

Tsuna knew immediately who Kisuke was talking about, and therefore knew exactly when to duck. The Zanpakutou– thankfully in its sheathe still– whistled over where his head had been moments before and Tsuna turned, straightening up to see a familiar, pink-haired menace grinning at him. Though 'grinning' was probably the wrong choice of words– barring her teeth would be more accurate.

Tsuna was ready to duck her follow up strike when Ichigo sped forwards, catching Yachiru's wrist and twisting until she was forced to drop her Zanpakutou. "You can spar with him later," he said sternly, which Tsuna thought was a generous interpretation of Yachiru chasing him around and Tsuna running for his life and limbs. "We want to test something first– we explained it to you, remember?"

"Yup," Yachiru chirped. "You want me to make some sort of soul bond with Tsu-Tsu. Ken-chan says he'll accept a minimum of ten spars with various Kurosakis of his choice as my dowry– also, Tsu-Tsu has to wear the dress at the wedding."

"...what?" Tsuna asked weakly. Ichigo just shrugged.

"Fair enough," he said.

"Um," Tsuna said, but the sparkle in Yachiru's eyes told him she was joking. Mostly. She probably was going to force him into a dress at some point and Zaraki was definitely going to make Tsuna, Ichigo and probably Karin too fight him, but he could live with both of those. Probably. And he really did want to see if it was possible to have a Shinigami as a Guardian– especially Yachiru. Because she was _Yachiru_. She might be sort of insane, but she had helped save him and she had helped train him (admittedly by throwing him to the sharks that made up the Eleventh but he had learned to fight back very quickly and very effectively) and she was a _friend_.

So when he held out his hand of Sky Flames and brilliant yellow Flames, blindingly bright as the sun, erupted between them, he was so grateful he threw his arms around her in a hug. Yachiru immediately pivoted, sending him flying over her shoulder and tumbling to the ground, face first into the dirt. He was so thrilled he didn't even care.

::

Tsuna felt like he was floating on a happy cloud of happiness. His Sky Flames were singing in his chest, intertwined with his Elements, and all he wanted to do was bask in their song. What had started off as a miserable day had turned around into something wonderful, something words just couldn't describe.

"You look stoned," Ichigo said fondly, and Tsuna beamed.

"I'm just happy," he said and Ichigo's face softened from its default scowl.

"Good," he said, before brandishing a bag that Tsuna hadn't noticed before, too caught up in the surprise of their arrival, "So, I brought some reading material for you."

'Some' turned out to be an understatement. The stack of books included titles such as ' _Gomorrah'_ which documented the infiltration and investigation of various areas of business and daily life controlled or affected by the Italian criminal organisation Camorra, to ' _Yakuza: Japan's Criminal Underworld_ ' which claimed to tell the full story of Japan's crime syndicates, from their feudal start as bands of medieval outlaws to their emergence as billion-dollar investors in real estate, big business, art, and more.

"Know your enemy," Kisuke said, looking over the stack approvingly.

"Some of these are written in English," Tsuna said despairingly.

His happy, floaty feeling was disappearing very quickly.

"There's no reason to neglect your education," Ichigo said sternly. "Think of it as an extracurricular activity."

"What is my life?" Tsuna asked the universe.

"A joke," Karin offered very unsympathetically and Tsuna moaned.

His cousins and Kisuke didn't stay for dinner. They weren't sure how Nana would react to their presence and didn't want to risk Tsuna getting in trouble, so it was with a heavy heart that Tsuna hugged them goodbye. At least this time he felt closer to Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu, their Flames still singing with his own. It still hurt though, seeing them all disappear into the shadows, like a sawed-off limb.

Yuzu had squeezed him tight before they left, burying her face against his shoulder. "This is a new start, remember?" she'd said, speaking out loud to remind them both, "it's not an ending, it's a beginning."

He'd agreed with her, but watching them disappear had felt very final.

"Wanna fight?" Yachiru, who had stayed behind, offered. Violence tended to be her default answer to emotions.

"Sure," Tsuna decided, because a distraction would actually be nice right about now. Yachiru grinned, all teeth. It was impressive how menacing a pink-haired pre-teen could look. Of course, Tsuna knew her so he knew just how crazy dangerous she could be.

He pulled out his Quincy Cross from where it was kept safe around his neck on a chain Kisuke had made and assured him was next to unbreakable. It had once been his mother's and Nana had given it to him with a lost, unhappy look in her eyes when she learned that Yhwach had returned. It only took him a moment to focus, to gather the ambient Reishi around them, forming not his usual recurve bow but instead his second most-used spiritual weapon, a kodachi– his favoured type of sword.

Yachiru barely waited for his kodachi to solidify before she was swinging her– still sealed– Zanpakutou at his neck. " _Blut vene!_ " He called out, holding out his free hand to block the sword. Blue veins stood prominent against his skin as it hardened, the durability increasing enough that the sword's blow deflected off his palm.

"Cheater!" Yachiru giggled playfully, dancing around on swift feet.

"There's no such thing in a fight," Tsuna denied, smiling slightly. "You taught me that." Yachiru pulled a face.

"Using my words against me," she grumbled. "Meanie!"

Yachiru didn't give him a chance to even think of a strategy, instead charging him, half-handing her Zanpakutou in a precise sweep that would have gutted him if it hadn't been sheathed. As it was, it knocked the breath out of him and he gagged, doubling over and retching, actually relieved he'd emptied his stomach so thoroughly earlier.

"First kill goes to me," Yachiru sang out cheerfully.

" _Blut arterie_ ," Tsuna gasped, the defensive 'blut vene' fading away as he instead channeled Reishi directly into his blood. He wasn't as good at this offensive Quincy technique as he was the defensive technique, but he was still able to move far quicker then he normally would, lunging forward. Yachiru ducked though, shouldering him aside in a move more suited to a brawl then a spar. Then again, spars with members of the Eleventh usually were.

Tsuna swiftly moved his kodachi to guard as Yachiru charged again, not giving him a moment to breathe, swinging as if she was trying to split him in half from above. His kodachi barely stopped the blow before she slammed her knee into his unprotected stomach and when he doubled over again, she brought her sealed blade down on his back with a heavy enough thump to send him to his knees.

"Second kill to me," she chirped. Tsuna just groaned pitifully, staggering back to his feet.

There was a reason Yachiru fought with a sheathed blade and he fought with a live blade– she was just that good, and compared to her he just _wasn't_.

Tsuna feinted a low thrust, and when Yachiru moved to stop it he jumped instead, trying to swing his blade to her neck. She bent her entire body back so her midriff was level with the ground to avoid the swing, then followed up with a series of jabs that had Tsuna side-stepping left and right to avoid.

Yachiru's laughter rang out as their swords clashed, strikes meeting and parrying, the occasional blow of a fist or knee attempting to sneak through defences. It ended when Yachiru locked their blades, twisting and using that grip to pull him stumbling forwards then jumping onto his back and slamming the pommel of her blade against the small of his back with enough force to send him to the ground.

"Third kill," she said as she flipped her Zanpakutou around to jab the tip of her sword against the back of his neck and Tsuna let his sword dissolve back into stray Reishi particles, resting his face against the strewn grass. He knew better then to be humiliated by his loss– Yachiru may look like a child but she was the Lieutenant of the bloodthirsty Eleventh Division for a reason. There was no shame in losing a fight to her.

"You're getting better, Tsu-Tsu," Yachiru said approvingly, "you're not as pathetic anymore."

"I think that's the best compliment you've ever given me," Tsuna mumbled into the ground and Yachiru laughed, still perched on his back.

"Tsu-Tsu has such low expectations," she said teasingly, "he's going to make a very low-maintenance husband."

"It's not a marriage," Tsuna sighed. "It's a... well, soul-bond of sorts."

That wasn't his best argument– it sounded even more binding then a marriage.

"Does that mean we're soul mates?" Yachiru asked slyly.

"Ew, no, because that would make Ichigo, Yuzu and Karin my soul mates too," Tsuna protested and he could practically hear Yachiru wince.

"Tsu-Tsu might have a point there," she conceded. She flopped down and wriggled so she was laying on top of him, stretched out so her chin was resting over his head. "You feel different, Tsu-Tsu," she said. Tsuna frowned, even though she couldn't see it, considering he was facing the ground still.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just... different," she said. "Koneko-chan does too."

"...oh," Tsuna whispered, understanding what she wasn't quite saying. Kitten was Yachiru's nickname for Yuzu– sweet and adorable but still with teeth and claws, she'd described her. And if Yachiru was saying that Yuzu had changed too... then she was talking about Hell. She hadn't really seen him properly since before he and Yuzu had been kidnapped and taken to Hell, and now... now she was saying they felt _different_.

"You feel weird," Yachiru told him, "not like a human anymore."

"What?" Tsuna asked, trying to sit up in alarm. Yachiru pushed him back down, apparently unwilling to lose her lounge chair.

"Not _just_ like a human," she amended, "Hell doesn't let go so easily."

"But I'm not– I'm not one of its– I'm not a Hell-bound soul!" Tsuna said, rapidly edging into hysteria. Yachiru's weight on his back now felt as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded in the here and now; his breath was already starting to get stuck in his tightening throat.

"Of course not," Yachiru said, sounding surprised that he would even think that. She poked him sharply in the ribs and it actually startled him enough that he was able to take a proper breath. "But Hell has left its mark on you. I think you need to figure just how that mark affects you." She then tugged his hair sharply. "Stop panicking, silly," she scolded him, "you're still Tsu-Tsu."

Her easy dismissal of potential changes calmed him somewhat, but her comment still stayed with him long after she left. He knew that Hell had left him with blackened, scorching marks on his psyche, of course, and Yuzu had commented that she could now see Hollows and Pluses and Shinigami perfectly, instead of the faint, fuzzy outlines she could see before, but he'd never considered that it could have left any other marks on him besides the scars on his wrists from those cursed chains.

Maybe because any alternative was... too horrific to even imagine.

Any thought of stomaching dinner was long abandoned.

"That pink-haired Shinigami menace is so violent, I don't know why you even like her," Kon complained that evening as Tsuna examined all his bruises in the bathroom mirror.

"Some of these are from falling down the stairs," Tsuna protested weakly.

"Yeah," Kon said grimly. "About that. We're going to have to do something about your sleepwalking. I don't want you falling down the stairs again, or walking in front of a car, or gods know what else."

"I'm open to suggestions," Tsuna said with a tired sigh.

"...I think we should tie you to the bed," Kon said and Tsuna blinked.

"Not what I was expecting," he said slowly.

"A quick release knot," Kon hastened to explain, "and we can order some proper cuffs off the internet if it works– or you can ask Yumichika for his supplier, you get along weirdly well with him– but you scared the shit out of me this morning. And yesterday you nearly walked onto the road, Tsuna, and I couldn't get you to wake up."

Tsuna blinked again. "Um," he said, because there technically wasn't anything wrong with Kon's plan. He sighed. "I'll go find some rope."

As he laid in bed that night, bound in place, he tried to remember Yuzu's words. "It's a new start," he told himself.

It didn't help. Sleep didn't come easily.

(The ropes felt like chains)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, this is an AU where Yachiru is still around because F*** canon
> 
> Also, Tsuna is NOT going to be prepared when he figures out he's got a soul-bond to Zaraki through default. Like, at all XD


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT:**

“Excellent work, boys,” Tsuyoshi smiled down at them and Takeshi grinned over at Tsuna, who smiled back at them both, exhausted but proud.

Tsuna had followed up on his promise to Ichigo and after his beating in the rather one-sided fight against Yachiru and asked Tsuyoshi for lessons. Tsuyoshi had agreed and in the weeks that had followed since Tsuna had been learning the ‘art of the sword’, to quote his new sensei, alongside Takeshi.

Unlike Tsuna, Takeshi was a natural with a blade in his hands, and despite Tsuna’s advantage of previous training and experience, Takeshi was already quickly catching up. However, being constantly beaten up by Yachiru did give Tsuna an edge in most spars, as he was so used to fighting an opponent who was just completely out of his league– and he was also used to fighting dirty, something that had taken Tsuyoshi by surprise the first time Tsuna had viciously kneed his sensei in the gut during a practice spar. It had been pure instinct and he’d immediately apologised, which Tsuyoshi had accepted with a smile and a laugh, but there had been a very thoughtful look in his eye afterward– and Tsuyoshi had taken care to never discourage those instincts, and instead just better defend himself against them.

It was at around the month and a half mark, when Tsuyoshi had decided they had a solid understanding of the basics, that he moved on to teaching them separate, individual fighting styles. Takeshi he was teaching a family style, which Tsuna respected as being personal between father and son. For Tsuna, however, he had worked out a style that focused on speed and precision, considering Tsuna’s small, slight build. It was hard work, but it was rewarding too. And Tsuna found that the more he exhausted himself, the less likely he was that night to dream.

The dreams– or bloodcurdling nightmares, rather– were still an issue. It was the reason why he hadn’t invited Takeshi to spend the night over at his house, despite the soul-deep closeness that came with being Rain and Sky, and why he’d refused any and all invitations to spend the night at Takeshi’s. How could he hide the times his own guttural, blood-curdling, terrified screams woke him up? How was he supposed to explain away the fact he had to handcuff himself to his own bed at night?

(Yumichika had, in fact, managed to purchase a set of quick-release cuffs for him. Kon hadn’t stopped laughing at how red his face had gone until Yumichika left with a saucy wink)

At least the cuffs didn’t leave marks on his wrists like the ropes had. That had been a very awkward week of wearing long sleeves. Though he tended to wear long sleeves anyway, considering the scars left on his inner wrists by the chains… Tsuna knew exactly what the thick scars looked like, knew that Tsuyoshi sometimes glanced at them with a guarded look in his eye, that he took in Tsuna’s too-thin, too-pale, eternally-exhausted form with the same guarded look, and he wanted to explain, to tell him that _no_ , they weren’t _that_ , but how could he possibly explain the truth behind their origins?

Takeshi helped. So did Kon. The feeling of Takeshi’s hand holding his under their school desks, his Flames subtly soaking into Tsuna in a wash of calm and tranquillity, had become as familiar to Tsuna as Takeshi’s sharp grin. And Kon was always there when he woke from a nightmare, protective and comforting both, and knowing it was his choice to be there, that he had chosen to guard Tsuna’s sleep, made Tsuna feel safe and protected, even when he was bound by chains of his own making.

Even Yachiru was making semi-regular visits to Namimori, appearing out of the blue to ambush him, mostly to spar though just as she had threatened, she had taken the chance to force him into a dress, enlisting Matsumoto Rangiku’s help. The ‘wedding dress’ had been white with layers of frothy, frilled skirts, puffy sleeves, a beaded bodice and a big satin bow. They’d pinned a crown of white roses in his hair and then taken over a dozen pictures, Rangiku cooing the entire time. Tsuna had no doubt the photos would be distributed throughout the Shinigami Women’s Association. He could only hope that Karin would never, _ever_ get her hands on one– he would never live it down, not in this life or the next.

(His very plaintive, “Why?” had only been met with Yachiru’s mischievous grin and reply of,

“Why not?”

Rangiku had just cooed some more, the utter _monster_ )

Tsuna was still grateful, despite it all; Yachiru’s presence, like Takeshi’s and Kon’s, was a balm to his soul and for all the humiliation she brought him, he’d never give her up for anything. And she had actually acknowledged his improvement with a sword. She had several uncomplimentary things to say about how slowly he was improving, but she’d still used the word improving and that was worth continuing with the exhaustion of Tsuyoshi’s lessons.

Besides, the lessons let him spend more time with Takeshi and Tsuna would never say no to that.

(Tsuna had always been clingy with the people that were _his_ )

“Do you want to borrow our shower before you walk home?” Takeshi offered after they finished their cool down stretches under Tsuyoshi’s stern, watchful eye. The offer was practically routine now, and Tsuna nodded gratefully. “You can go first,” Takeshi decided, “it isn’t like you actually use up any of the hot water.”

Takeshi’s usual incredulousness over his cold showers made Tsuna smile slightly and shrug. “Hot showers just aren’t for me,” he said vaguely, before bowing again to Tsuyoshi and then following Takeshi into the main part of the house.

After his shower, Tsuna pulled out a book from his bag while waiting for Takeshi to finish his shower, already knowing that his Rain would insist on walking him home. He’d learned by now that it was easier to go along with Takeshi’s protectiveness then to fight it and he took the chance to settle down and get in some reading time. Usually he’d take the opportunity to get started in on any assigned homework, but with school holidays around the corner their current workload was light.

Tsuna found he was keenly anticipating the break. It wasn’t that school was awful– because it wasn’t, not at all. It was actually a very straightforward, non-dramatic experience, which Tsuna appreciated– he’d even go so far as to say he enjoyed it. The teachers were good, so were the classes, and amazingly the other students weren’t awful either.

Tsuna thought that if he actually put in the effort, he could even make more friends. Being so close with baseball star Takeshi was enough to make him almost “cool” by default, even if he was considered a bit of a teacher’s pet due to how advanced he was in English and an absolute weirdo for his attachment to the ‘stuffed lion’ he often carted around in his backpack or even on his head if Kon was feeling particularly cheeky. But Takeshi was– _shockingly_ enough– the possessive type, and Tsuna had never really been the sort to put himself out there. He was content with the bonds he had, his friendships with Takeshi and Kon more than enough to make Namimori bearable, and Ichigo, Yuzu and Karin just a shadow away for a visit on either Saturday or Sunday– though it always felt like their time together was too short.

That was mostly why he was looking forward to the holidays so much, really– he was hoping that he’d actually be able to go spend time with his family in Karakura. Surely he could convince Nana just for a couple of days he’d be safe with Ichigo and the girls? And maybe he could introduce them to Takeshi! He hadn’t introduced his friend to his family yet, and that just felt wrong.

Tsuna’s mind was still whirling with plans to convince Nana when Takeshi emerged from the bathroom, ready to walk him back home.

“See you tomorrow, Tsuna,” Tsuyoshi smiled in his usual warm, friendly manner as they passed him on their way out and Tsuna waved back at him as Takeshi tugged him through the door.

They didn’t always speak during their walks, neither of them seeing the need to fill silences with empty chatter, just enjoying each other’s company, and this time seemed no exception until Takeshi reached for him. Thinking Takeshi was reaching for his hand, Tsuna was surprised when instead Takeshi grabbed his wrist, lifting it up between them. He swallowed thickly as Takeshi’s fingers brushed against the pale scar tissue there, marks left from chains that had burrowed through his skin, through the marrow of his bones, twisting and winding their way along his insides until they pierced his very soul.

“You know,” Takeshi said, and his voice was a little distant as he continued tracing the scar, almost absently, “I used to sit on the roof of the school, looking up at the sky, and just think… about how _easy_ it would be to just… step off.”

His smile was very empty as he looked up from Tsuna’s wrist, meeting Tsuna’s horrified eyes. “I guess even back then, I was looking for my Sky,” he said, almost casually, as if he wasn’t terrifying Tsuna. “I’ve found you now, though.” Takeshi’s empty smile disappeared, his eyes turning to steel. “I can’t lose you.”

“They’re not… like that,” Tsuna said, speaking hesitantly. Kon had been encouraging him to be more open with Takeshi. Not about ‘ghost business’, but about his… issues. “Something… happened to me, before I came to Namimori. My cousin and I were taken by some bad people. They… they took us to a really bad, awful place. They hurt us. I– I have nightmares now. Terrible ones. That’s why– that’s why I don’t sleep over at your house. Or invite you to sleep over.”

Takeshi’s grip on his wrist had tightened unconsciously during Tsuna’s vague explanation and there was a look of pure, murderous rage on his face. “Who?” he demanded, in a low, dangerous voice. “Who was it?”

“They’re dead now,” Tsuna said honestly, because technically they’d hadn’t ever been alive during the brief, horrible period they’d been acquainted– though in that moment, he did not doubt for a moment that if he had given Takeshi a name that Takeshi would have hunted down that name to the ends of the earth to viciously slaughter them. Tsuna probably should have felt disturbed, but he was mostly just touched.

Takeshi took a slow, deep breath, his fingers loosening as he visibly calmed himself. Tsuna carefully hid his wince.

“I don’t care if you have a nightmare, Tsuna,” Takeshi finally told him, with no room for argument. “I don’t care if you scream so loud the whole street wakes up. I care that you won’t let me be there to help– you’re _my Sky_. You helped me, when no one else could. When no one else even knew to. You saw me when all anyone else saw was a stupid, fake mask. And you accept me, you _want me_. All the bits that don’t fit right, you still want them. You helped me off that roof. Now I can help you. I _want_ to help you. So _let me_ ”

Tsuna… Tsuna took a shaky breath and nodded. “Takeshi,” he said, his voice only catching slightly, “would you like to stay the night at my place?”

Takeshi’s smile was nothing short of triumphant.

“I’d love to.”

::

Takeshi had been over to Tsuna’s house enough times that he didn’t comment on Nana’s vague smile and absent wave– Tsuna had explained she’d been in an accident that left her with brain damage several years ago and that she had good days and bad days. Whatever thoughts either Takeshi or Tsuyoshi had on that, neither had shared.

The two boys finished their homework together in Tsuna’s room, Takeshi ducking out to contact his dad to let him know about his new plans for the night. Something about the confrontation must have been prearranged between them because Tsuyoshi agreed very quickly despite the fact it was a school night. Tsuna could feel his anxiety levels rising during dinner and Takeshi clearly noticed because he shifted his chair around so he was sitting next to Tsuna and reached out, squeezing his hand, letting his Flames help smooth out the sharp edge of the panic.

As the time for bed approached, however, Tsuna’s anxiety returned. Takeshi raised an eyebrow when he brought out the cuffs and Tsuna turned red, relieved when Takeshi didn’t say anything.

Originally, they’d set up a sleeping mat for Takeshi on Tsuna’s floor but Takeshi looked down at it and decided out loud, “nope, this isn’t going to work,” and before Tsuna could even think to do anything but squeak, Takeshi had grabbed the pillow and flopped into bed beside Tsuna. Tsuna’s face burned red again and he was about to protest when Takeshi wrapped an arm around him and he was drenched by a wave of soothing Rain Flames.

“ _Ohhhh_ ,” he realised sleepily.

“Oh,” Takeshi confirmed, sounding very, very pleased with himself as he used one of Tsuna’s arms, held loosely above his head, as a pillow. Tsuna just hummed, eyes closed, feeling perfectly at peace with Takeshi on one side of him and Kon on the other. Kon was pretending to be a stuffed toy, of course, but Tsuna could feel the brush of _lavender-stormcloud-quartz_ Flames burning behind his ribcage, entwines with his Sky flames, allowing him to drift off peacefully.

He didn’t dream that night.

::

Sharing a bed with Takeshi became a habit very quickly. Mostly because both Nana and Tsuyoshi had noticed the return of some colour to Tsuna’s face and roundness to his cheeks and were willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

It wasn’t a cure-all. Hell was... _pervasive_ , even with the help of Rain Flames as tranquillisers and anti-anxiety medication all mixed in one. More then once, Tsuna had woken Takeshi and Kon by shaking violently, choking on the invisible chains and thick, scalding smoke that only existed in his memories. Each time left Takeshi even more determined to hone the strength and precision of his Rain Flames and the steely look in his eyes told Tsuna it was better not to argue with him.

Tsuna had been working on his own Flames too, wanting to know what they were capable of. He vaguely remembered when they had activated in Kurotsuchi’s lab. There had been a lot of destruction and burning– and ice? Though he might have imagined that. Everything was a bit foggy, honestly, and there had been a lot of fire. _A lot._ Tsuna didn’t think metal was even supposed to catch fire, but all those gleaming stainless steel surfaces in Kurotsuchi’s lab had definitely been burning. There had been no smoke that he remembered though, which was... strange.

Tsuna was easily able to conjure his Flames, to bring them out and make them dance around his hands, even to make small balls of fire. But he couldn’t make his Flames hot enough to _burn_. His Flames were warm, but they weren’t flammable. Which meant they were useless as a defence.

Tsuyoshi couldn’t help him much with using his Sky Flames as he’d admitted that they were rare enough that very little knowledge of them was available even to the Flame Active community. Which... wasn’t helpful. Kisuke had been much more helpful, suggesting that a foci might help him, considering his experience with his Quincy Cross. He’d then slyly offered to make Tsuna a ring. Considering that Tsuna had watched the ‘ _Godfather_ ’ as part of his extensive studying of the world of organised crime, he’d very emphatically refused, amusing Kisuke greatly. Kisuke had still sent him a silver cuff-style bracelet with the kanji for fire etched on one side, and on the opposite side a gemstone that seemed to burn the same orange as Sky Flames.

“Because they are Sky Flames,” Kisuke had cheerfully explained when Tsuna rang to thank him and ask how it worked, “yours, to be exact. Extracted from one of your donations to Science! Usually, a circle is a poor design shape for any sort of foci– there’s no exit point to release the energy. But I found that fire opals conduct the energy that organised crime has given the ridiculous name of ‘Dying Will Flames’ quite remarkably– well, most mineraloids seem to, I just enjoy the irony of that specific mineraloid’s name– so the rest of the cuff is actually purely aesthetic and to provide an attachment point, only the mineraloid matters.”

“Dying Will Flames is a ridiculous name, isn’t it?” Tsuna agreed, before beaming, even though he knew Kisuke couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Kisuke-san. Really, _thank you_.”

“Ah, don’t mention it,” Kisuke said breezily. “Ichigo made himself useful during the testing process. He’s a very amusing lab rat.”

“Ichi-nii usually is.” Tsuna agreed, grinning. Well, he was for Kisuke, anyway. Tsuna was pretty sure Ichigo would tell anyone else to go screw themselves. He wondered if the pair had harmonised yet– he and the girls had a running bet.

Of course, Kisuke’s work had been perfect as always. With the foci, Tsuna’s Flames burned the dummy Tsuyoshi had set up to ashes before he could even yelp properly in surprise. Takeshi’s eyes gleamed and Tsuyoshi looked very proud of “Tsuna’s” achievement. Tsuna felt slightly guilty for taking credit for Kisuke’s work, but decided that giving Kisuke an excuse to drag Ichigo into his lab made up for it.

Of course, Tsuna’s apparent breakthrough had made Takeshi even more determined and Tsuna despaired of finding a way to get Takeshi a foci without revealing to Tsuyoshi that he’d revealed the whole Flames secret.

...then again, at this point, he was certain that anything he said to Takeshi in confidence, Takeshi would take to the grave, keeping it secret even from his own father. Which was... a lot. And Tsuna wasn’t quite sure how to handle that yet. So he was quietly avoiding it.

There were many positives about being a Sky, but it could also be _terrifying_.

::


End file.
